Some Like It 'Bot
by CoyoteLoon
Summary: Jenny is going to the concert of the year - until her mom finds out. But there's no way Jenny can miss this, and she comes up with the perfect plan, with a little help from a new friend. What could possibly go wrong? (complete)
1. The Day The Music Died

Obvious Disclaimer – The characters in this story are from the cartoon "My Life as a Teenage Robot", and I own nothing, nada, zilcho pertaining to them.  My sole creation is the character of Drew, a human high school student who was turned into an android by Cluster nanotechnology.  Say what?  If you give a doing, it's explained in the story "Android Scam" by CoyoteLoon.  I got the silly little idea for this story shortly after finishing that one.

* * *

SOME LIKE IT 'BOT

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter One – The Day The Music Died

* * *

It had been a lot of hard work, but Jenny knew she was up to the challenge.  There would be one chance, and one chance only, to get it right.  She had to pay close attention to the equipment.  She didn't dare blink an eye, because when the signal came, she was going to have to act lightning fast.  She had gotten up early and spent nearly an hour reconfiguring the monitors for the most crucial mission of her teenage life.

Every monitor in her bedroom had a line running from an output jack into a communications switching panel that was deployed from Jenny's chest.  That way, she could watch them and use them all at once.  Every screen displayed sine waves and communications signals.  She was getting nervous, and her sensors were getting a little fatigued from her constant vigil.  But there was no way she could risk missing –

_The signal!_

She heard it!  It almost caught her by surprise, but Jenny quickly activated a circuit on her communications panel.  Rapid-fire _beeps_ filled the room and her electronics hummed at top speed.  Then the beeps stopped, and Monitor Eight showed a successful connection.  There were a few clicking noises.  Jenny deployed a small microphone to her mouth, and held her breath –

"Congratulations, you're caller sixteen!"

"_Yessss!_"  It was all she could do contain herself.

"And you're talking to Zinger McCloud in the morning!  Who's this?"

"Jenny!  Jenny Wakeman!"  _Oh yes oh yes oh yes oh yes!!!_

"And what do you have to say for us this morning, Jenny?"

"K-T-R-M 103 is The Bomb that rocks Tremorton!!!"

"That's the phrase that pays, and Jenny, I hope you're not busy tomorrow, because we are hooking you up, with three friends, with tickets and backstage passes to see … the Back Sync Boys!!!"

Jenny leapt into the air, screaming with pure joy, and knocked a hole into the ceiling.  She could barely calm down long enough to give the DJ her personal information, then she unplugged herself from the monitors, and started dancing around her bedroom.  She grabbed a pillow and squealed into it.  The force of her voice blew a hole right through it like a sonic cannon, sending soft white feathers blowing around the room.

She finally stopped and composed herself.  "Okay, Jenny, okay … get it together … gotta get ready for school … and go pick three friends to meet the _Back Sync Boys_!!!"

Jenny was back in dance mode, twisting and spinning, when her bedroom door flew open.

"XJ-9!  What in the name of Heisenberg is _going on in here_?!?"  Mrs. Wakeman barged in, investigating the thumping and pounding that shook the whole house.  She half expected to find a signs of a struggle, or the remains of a bomb blast.  Instead, her robot daughter was lip-syncing to some racket on the radio in front of one of those ridiculous boy band posters, and … her monitoring equipment was lying about in disarray, half-disassembled, the floor littered with wires and cables.

"The emergency monitors!!!"  She clutched at her long white hair, horrified.  "XJ-9, what have you done?!?"

Jenny spun around on her toes.  "I won, Mom!  I won!  I'm going to – "

Mrs. Wakeman pointed a finger, with a threatening look.  "You are _going to_ reassemble these monitors right now, young lady … or _else_."

That slowed Jenny down a bit, but she was still giddy.  "Sure, Mom.  Don't stress it.  I just needed to use them for a little while."

"You are supposed to monitor for trouble, and save the world!  It would seem to be difficult to monitor for trouble when you do _not have any monitors!!!_"

"Okay, okay, I said I'll fix them, Mom!"  _Oh, it's no use trying to get Mom to understand.  She just has no sense of priorities!_  She knelt down and started rearranging cables, and flashed a big innocent smile towards her mother.

That seemed to satisfy Mrs. Wakeman.  "Well, all right then.  And you'd best be quick about it, or you'll be late for school."

"School!  How much time until school starts … oh wow, ten minutes."  This shouldn't be too much trouble.  After all, she'd taken them apart, she could put them back together.  She stood up, holding a mess of identical black cables in her two hands.  _Hmmm, I probably should have labeled these_.  This turned out to be a little trickier than she thought.  Now she was down to five minutes.  _Oh, what the hey._  Jenny quickly reconnected all her monitors together at random, figuring that at least _one_ of them had to work.  She grabbed her backpack, jumped out of her bedroom window, and ignited her pigtail-jets.  Jenny sped across the sky, a blue blur, happily singing to herself all the way to Tremorton High School.

* * *

Drew didn't have much to do while the other guys hit the showers after Phys Ed.  With an android body made of nanobots, he didn't sweat or generate odor – at least none that he noticed.  It was just one of the thousands of little things that was different about his life now.  And for the most part, he had to admit that there was an awful lot of upside to being an android.  He was a lot stronger and faster than he used to be.  His sight and hearing was a lot better.  He didn't feel pain.  Of course he was nowhere near as strong or fast as Jenny – _after all, she did mop the floor with two thousand copies of me_ – but Drew enjoyed one perk that Jenny could never have.  _No responsibilities._

Then there was the strangeness of the Cluster nanobots themselves.  Nobody, not even Dr. Wakeman, was completely sure yet of what they could or couldn't do.  He could stretch and turn his body into different shapes, and that was a blast, but he couldn't turn himself into anything too complicated.  Hard as he tried, he couldn't even make a simple wheel.  _Too bad.  It would've been really cool to be a motorcycle._

Brad walked out of the locker room, smoothing back his spiky red hair.  "Hey, Drew – nice game.  Basketball's a lot easier when your arms are twelve feet long, huh?"

"Oh, come on," Drew laughed.  "I did that _once!"_

"_Just kidding_.  I don't see you again till lunch," said Brad.  "What are you up to this weekend?"

"No plans so far.  You wanna get together with Jenny and hang out?"

"I'll just bet you'd like that," said a nasal voice from behind.

A thin, gangly student came out of the locker room, pursuing Drew.  He wiped his greasy black hair off of his acne-covered face, while stuffing wads of tissue paper into each nostril to stop a nose bleed.  It would've been a tense situation, if he didn't look so pitiful.

Drew sighed.  "Look, guy, I said I was sorry!  I mean, you were looking right at me.  I thought you were going to catch that ball."

"Oh, I'm onto your little game.  Getting yourself a fancy android body.  Trying to take me out of the picture!  Well, it won't work.  It won't work, I tell you!"

"_What _won't work?  Look … I don't even know your _name_."

"Playing dumb, huh?  Well, that's fine with me.  The name's Sheldon.  Sheldon Lee."

"Okay, Sheldon … _what_ won't work?"

Sheldon pointed a clammy finger into Drew's chest.  "You're trying to _steal_ the love of my life."

"Look ... I think you might be making a mistake.  I'm not after anyone's … uh … Sheldon?"  Suddenly Sheldon's eyes seemed to glaze over, and a big, dumb grin spread on his face.  He was looking past Drew, like he wasn't even there.  Drew raised a hand and snapped his fingers, with no effect.

Sheldon sighed deeply, and his voice swooned.

"But soft, what light through yonder hallway breaks?"

Drew was starting to wonder about this guy.  He glanced at Brad, who had his hand over his mouth, fighting back laughter.

Sheldon continued.  "Tis the east … and _Jenny_ is the sun."

Drew turned around.  Sure enough, Jenny was walking down the hallway, surrounded by a swarm of other girls.  They were talking loudly, rapidly, and excitedly, and the babble was punctuated by the occasional squeal.  Whatever was going on, Jenny looked to be in absolute heaven.  _Hmmm.  They don't pay this much attention to her when she shoots down an incoming ballistic missile._

A little light went off in Drew's head.  He stifled a chuckle.

"Ohhh … I didn't realize that you and Jenny were an … _item_."  _Straight face!  Straight face!_

Sheldon snapped out of his daydream.  "Well … more or less.  I mean, it's not official or anything.  And we really haven't actually … _dated_."  His chest swelled.  "But … our fates are written together in the stars!"

"Okay.  Okay."  _Mmmph!  Straight face!_  "Listen, Sheldon, one guy to another … I appreciate the heads-up.  Jenny and I are _just_ _friends_.  Don't let me get in your way.  Go for it, _Tiger!_"

Sheldon gave Drew a suspicious look.  "Well, okay then.  But I'm keeping an eye on you, you … _usurper_!"  And with that, he wiped off his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and headed down the hall to his next class, looking back over his shoulder to give Drew a nasty look.

Drew and Brad were almost in pain from holding back, and burst out into roars of laughter.  After a few moments, they caught their breath.  "Oh wow …" gasped Drew.  "Jenny is one lucky gal."

Brad wiped a tear from his eye.  "Poor Sheldon!  He's got a humongous crush on Jenny, and I guess he sees you as a threat now.  I guess it makes sense from his point of view.  Robot girl, robot guy."

"Should I be worried?  I'm not going to find a horse's head in my locker, am I?"

Brad waved a hand.  "Nahh, Sheldon's harmless.  He's just a little _obsessed_ when it comes to Jenny."

"I guess so.  Does she know about this?"

"Does she _know_?!?" laughed Brad.  "Oh yeah, she knows, and I don't think she's thrilled with the attention."  They looked down the hallway, where the crowd of girls around Jenny was still filling the air with chatter.  "Although, she seems to be pretty happy with the attention she's getting right _now_."

"Yeah, I noticed that.  Check it out?"

"Sure, but let's wait for the girl riot to die down first."

Which took another couple of minutes, until the crowd finally dispersed.  Girls drifted away in pairs and groups, some chatting excitedly, some sobbing with disappointment.  Jenny noticed Brad and Drew, and waved them over to her locker.

"Hey, Brad!  Hey, Drew.  _Great_ day, isn't it?"

"For some of us more than others, Miss Popularity," said Brad.  "What's with the mob scene, Jen?"

"Oh, just picking three friends to go with me to the Tremorton Coliseum tomorrow afternoon.  I've got tickets for the _Back Sync Boys,_" she grinned.

"Wow, that's been sold out for weeks.  Your _mom_ bought you concert tickets?!?"

"Nope.  Won them myself on the radio this morning.  With backstage passes, too."  She sighed dreamily, and turned to stare at a poster on the inside of her locker door.  A brooding, handsome young boy with long, thick brown hair and a goatee stared back at her through stylish sunglasses.  "I'm going to meet _Logan_.  He is _such_ a hottie."

"Okay, I'll take your word on that," shrugged Brad.

Drew scratched his head.  "Wasn't that a poster of … whatzisname … Timber Justinlake, a couple of weeks ago?"

"_Please_," huffed Jenny.  "Timber is _so_ last month.  Besides, he was just a singer.  The Back Sync Boys _write_ all their own songs.  _Siiiigh_.  Logan is such a bad boy, but he's sooo sensitive …"

"Yeesh," chuckled Drew.  "It's a good thing I don't have a stomach, or I'd be sick to it."

Brad laughed.  "Hey Jen, you want us to leave you and the poster alone for a little quality time?"

Jenny harrumphed and closed her locker.  "You're just _jealous_ that someone so good-looking can be so talented.  See for yourself."  She reached into her backpack, pulled out a copy of _Tiger Bleat_ magazine, and flipped to a story.  "Logan wrote all the songs for their new album.  And he threatened to leave the band unless they gave ten percent of the sales to save baby dolphins.  _Siiiigh_."

Drew rolled his eyes.  "_Wow_.  Two obsessions in five minutes.  Cupid is on a drunken rampage today."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Jenny asked.

"Oh, Drew just met Sheldon, after P.E. class," explained Brad.  "He was making sure that Drew wasn't moving in on his territory."

"Yeah," chuckled Drew.  He dropped his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and bit his lower lip, sulking.  "I'm not allowed to be your fwiend anymore."

The two boys laughed themselves silly, while Jenny buried her face in her hands.  "_Sheldon_ … _auugh_, what am I going to do with him?  I'm sorry, Drew.  Sheldon shouldn't be saying things like that.  I'll try to explain it to him …"

"Don't bother, Jenny.  So he's got a crush on you.  It's actually kind of _cute_," Drew teased.

"It's only _cute_ because it's not happening to you!"

"C'mon, Jen," said Brad, "it's no different than your little crush on Lomax there."

"That's _Logan_," she _humphed_.  "And it's _totally_ different!"

"Everyone gets a crush at some point or another," continued Brad, as the three started walking down the hallway.  "I remember my first one.  Slyvia Trypowski, in fourth grade.  She would blow spitballs into my hair in class, and then wave to me.  And I thought her braces were cute, but I called her 'tinsel lips' because my friends all thought that girls were disgusting.  Ah, good times, good times."

"Wow, there's a romance for the ages," Jenny said sarcastically.

Drew rubbed his chin, searching his memory, and chuckled.  "Let's see … oh, yeah, I remember now.  It was my fifth grade English teacher, Miss Heddington.  Brother, I actually used to bring _apples_ to her, if you can believe that.  Thought I was so mature for liking an older woman!  Hah!  How lame is that?  Oh, wow, I can picture her now ..."

A soft _schwwerrrp_ sound started to come from Drew's body, and his skin started to shimmer with silver-green ripples.

"She was tall, pretty, and wore these little square glasses that made her look so _sophisticated_.  She had a mole on her left cheek that I thought was cute …"

Jenny and Brad stared at him with dropped jaws.

Drew chuckled, and continued.  "And she had long straight hair that hung over her shoulders.  It was sort of brown …"

"Actually," said Brad, "I'd call it more of a sandy blonde."

"Yeah, I think you're right … huh?  Brad, how did you know that?"

Jenny's right hand retracted into her arm, and a telescoping rod popped out with a stack of sections that unfurled into a mirror.  "Miss Heddington, I presume?" she grinned.

"What are you talking about –"

Drew stared into the mirror in disbelief.

Standing in front of Jenny and Brad was an attractive woman in her early thirties, with square glasses and a mole on her cheek.  A schoolteacher in a plain blue blazer and skirt, with shoulder-length sandy blonde hair.  And a horrified expression on her face.

"Holy _crap!!!_" shouted "Miss Heddington".

"Wow!" said Brad.  "How did you _do_ that?"

"I _don't_ _know_!!!" Drew was suddenly aware of a few students staring at him … or _her_ … and started feeling _extremely_ self-conscious.  He looked around in a panic, saw a broom closet just across the hall, and dove in.

Brad slowly shook his head.  "Well, _that _was a little different."

"We'd better see if he's okay," chuckled Jenny.

They both walked into the closet, where Drew was staring down at his new appearance with a mix of amazement and terror.  He wiped his arms madly, as if he was trying to rub off paint.  "It won't go away!  Aiiighhh!  Come on, erase!  Undo!"

"This is amazing!!!" said Brad.  "Dude, you totally look like a … not-dude.  You still sound like you, though."

A series of shutters clicked in Jenny's eyes, rotating through different modes in her optic sensors.  "Nothing looks different, Drew.  You're still made of nanobots on the inside.  The surface is still metal, it's just changed color.  And you're, well, … _shaped_ differently," she giggled.

"Oh, I'm glad somebody's getting a laugh out of this!!!"

"Okay, relax, relax."  Brad tried to think.  "Now, this all started when you remembered your old fifth grade English teacher.  Maybe you just have to think of somebody else."

Drew took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down.  "Okay.  That makes sense.  Picture somebody else …"  Drew closed his eyes, and sure enough, a few seconds later his skin started to warble with waves of silver-green …

But when the shimmering stopped, Miss Heddington was replaced by a stunning, sexy Asian woman with long black hair, wearing a skin-tight aerobics outfit.

Brad's eyes widened.  "Hel-lo-o-o, Big Sally."

"AAAIIIIGHHHH!!!  This is _not_ _better_!!!  It's the babe from the morning fitness show on Channel thirty-two!!!  Oh, nuts, I've got girls on the brain now!!!"

Jenny planted her hands on her hips with a disgusted _clank_.  "Hmmph!  _Boys_.  That's all you think about."

Drew covered his chest with his arms.  "Criminy, Brad, _stop staring at me!_"

"Wha -?  Oh wow, that voice coming out of that body is just so _wrong_.  Okay, think of something else.  Baseball always works for me."

"Okay.  Baseball.  Baseball.  Baseball."  The sexy aerobics instructor started to shimmer silver-green, and this time she changed shape considerably.  Drew grew a few more inches.  His shoulders and chest broadened, and his arms and legs thickened with muscles.  His skin darkened to a rich mahogany brown, and his face sprouted a mustache and a fade-away haircut.  When the shimmering stopped, Drew was six-foot-four and wearing a baseball uniform.

Brad gazed in awe.  "Dude, you look just like Cornelius Jackson!  You hit sixty home runs last season!"

"Sixty-four," said Drew, a little calmer.  "And it's exactly who I was picturing in my mind.  Holy schnike, I think I'm actually getting the hang of this."

Suddenly the door to the broom closet flew open.  A tall, stern-looking older woman glared in, who Jenny recognized her as one of the senior teachers.  "What is going on in here?" she cackled.  "What is all the commotion?  You're not supposed to be in here!"

Jenny and Brad stammered for a few seconds, a little caught off guard.  _Uh-oh._

"This room is supposed to be for school employees only!" roared the teacher.  "And you should be in your next class by now.  The bell rang two minutes ago.  I should give you both detention!  What are you doing in here?

From behind the door, out of sight to the teacher, came a faint flowing sound.  _Schllorrrrrp_.

"Well?  I'm not hearing any explanations."

"These two students were assisting me," bellowed Vice Principal Raszinski, emerging from behind the door of the broom closet.  "I had to carry a vacuum cleaner down a flight of stairs to this closet."  He turned to Brad and Jenny.  "Thank you, Bradley, Miss XJ-9.  That will be all."

"Vice Principal Raszinski!  I'm sorry!  I didn't see you there," said the teacher, a little surprised.  "Er … what's wrong with your voice?"

Drew had tried to make his voice sound low and gravelly, but it wasn't even close to Raszinski's.  "Ah, just a bit of a hoarse throat.  Shouting at the students, you see.  I shout a lot!  Ah … don't you have a class to teach now?"

"Yes, yes, of course.  Uh … good day," she said.  The teacher scurried down the hall, a little perplexed.

"Phew," said Jenny, "that was _close_."

Brad grinned, watching the vice principal shimmer into a silver statue, squash, and re-form.  A few seconds later, the humanoid form smoothed out into a familiar gray-with-green-stripes android.  Drew quickly glanced at his arms, legs, body – and butt – and smiled in relief.  He had returned to normal, or at least what passed for normal these days.

Drew crossed his arms and smiled.  "You know, I think I could get to like this."

* * *

Jenny was enjoying herself immensely on the way home.  She flew past a honking flock of geese, enjoyed the surprised looks on their faces, then pulled up into a big, lazy loop, popping through a layer of puffy cotton-ball clouds.  _Some days, everything just seems to go right with the world_.  The sky was so perfectly blue, in the sunshine high up over Tremorton.  The town, and the fields and forests around it, looked so calm and peaceful from up here.

And it had been a calm and peaceful day.  _Not one alarm, not one call from Mom._  All the better to focus on more important things, like tomorrow's concert.  The girls at school had been buzzing about it all day.  They had swarmed around her and her three chosen friends at lunch, making her the center of attention.  It was wonderful, and it was going to be even better on Monday when she would tell the girls all about the concert.  _They are just going to _die_ of jealousy!  And my popularity problems will be a thing of the past._

Jenny dove back through the clouds, and smoothly flew over the rooftops of her neighborhood towards her house.  A quick little adjustment of her pigtails, and she came down to a feather-soft landing on her front yard.   There were things to do, so she trotted inside the house, happily humming to herself.  _Need to go up to my room and make a list of questions to ask the Back Sync Boys when I meet them tomorrow …_

But the house felt a little strange … it was quieter than normal.  When she got to the stairs, she saw her mother standing in the living room, with her arms folded across her chest, and a stony glare on her face.  She did not look to be in a pleasant mood.

"XJ-9, would you join me for a moment, please?"

"Sure Mom, in a minute."  _Oh, boy, what's this all about? _ "I just need to pop in my room first." 

"Global Robotic Response Unit X – J – Nine, come here and sit down _this instant_."

Jenny gulped.  _Wow, my full name.  This can't be good._  Already halfway up the stairs, she turned around and slowly _clanked_ back down.  She couldn't help but shrink a little under her mother's stare as she took a seat on the sofa. 

She tried a big, cheerful smile.  "Hi, Mom.  How was your day?"

It didn't work.  "XJ-9, what was the last thing I asked you to do before you left for school this morning?"

"Ummm … "  Jenny scratched her chin, trying to remember.  "To operate efficiently and be productive?"

"I _asked_ you to repair your monitoring equipment, that you had so thoughtlessly strewn about your room."

"Oh … right.  Wait a second … but I did fix it, Mom!"

"Really," said Mrs. Wakeman.  She lifted a remote control, and turned on the television.  The cable news channel came on.

A reporter was standing in front of the First National Bank of Tremorton, which had a large hole knocked in its side.  "… and police are still without any leads as to who was behind today's daring daylight robbery, that some are saying resulted in the theft of over twelve million dollars …"

Jenny couldn't believe her eyes.  Mrs. Wakeman changed channels.

A shot from a helicopter showed a town being swallowed up by a slow-moving wall of thick brown liquid.  "… federal officials have successfully evacuated the outlying areas of Hershey, Pennsylvania, where a freak accident has unleashed a tidal wave of chocolate on its unsuspecting citizens …"

Jenny sank a little lower in the sofa.  Her mother turned off the television.  "Well?"

"But I did re-connect all the monitors!  Okay, so maybe a _few_ of them got crossed up … but I was sure that I used all the wires that I took out!"  Jenny was starting to get nervous.  Mom had _that look_ on her face.  "And besides … if there was trouble, why didn't I get any remote alarms at school?"

"I tried to call _you_, but I wound up talking to some strange man at a _radio station_.  Instead of contacting my daughter, to have her save the world, I won two tickets to something called … 'Extreme Skateboard Thrashfest'."

_Gulp.  I forgot to disconnect the monitors from the radio station frequency._  "Ummm … congratulations?"

Mrs. Wakeman's eyes narrowed, and she had a scornful look on her face.  "Young lady, I am very, very disappointed in you.  It was only a fortunate happenstance that nobody was seriously injured today.  I have put up with a great deal of your irresponsibility – but you are becoming increasingly distracted from the purpose you were built for, which is to protect the world from evil and disaster.  Until I am convinced that you understand this, I must take steps to impress your duties upon you."

Mrs. Wakeman raised a hand to deliver her dictate.  "Until further notice, you will remain _in your room_, observing your monitors, and will not leave except for school or distress calls."

Jenny gasped.  "What … what are you saying?"

"You're grounded."

"WHAT?!?!"  Jenny was in shock.  "Grounded?  Mom, you can't!!!"

"Oh, I most certainly can.  Until I am convinced that you understand the seriousness of your responsibilities, you will remain in your room with no television, no telephone, and no visits."

"But what about the _concert_ tomorrow?!?"

"Concert?  _Concert_?!?"  This was the first that her mom had heard of _this_.  "You are most certainly _not_ going to any concert!"

"NO!!!" Jenny screamed, horrified.  "No, You can't do this!!!  It's not fair!!!"

"Your grounding starts immediately.  Go to your room, young lady!"

"But Mom, you've _got_ to let me –"

"_Now_."

Jenny's face quivered for a moment, and then she burst into tears.  "It's NOT FAIR!!!"  She flew up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door, shaking plaster loose from the walls and ceiling.  Then came more screaming that cracked half the windows in the house, and pounding that made the ground itself start to vibrate.  Finally, the only noise coming from Jenny's bedroom was the sound of wet, heaving sobs.

Mrs. Wakeman unclenched her teeth, thankful that the house was still standing.  "Well, that went about as expected," she sighed, and shuffled off to her laboratory in a somber mood.  _It's the only way to make her take her duties seriously.  Sigh, that girl will be the death of me yet._

She stopped briefly in the kitchen to grab some cheese and crackers, and a make a fresh pot of tea.  Hopefully, a light snack would steady her nerves.  She cleared a small space from the stacks of notes and equations on her messy workbench, and set out a small lunch.  "I wonder if I was too hard on her," she mumbled to herself.

Mrs. Wakeman's laboratory was filled with fantastic experiments, half-completed robots, and scientific curiosities of every type imaginable.  Most revolved around her work on the X-J series of defense robots, but she had other interests too, including animal research.  One shelf on the wall held a series of cages.  Mrs. Wakeman finished her tea and crackers, and walked over to the shelf with a leftover piece of cheese.

"No … no, a teenager needs discipline, to learn to make the right decisions.  Just like you did, didn't you, sweetums?"  She wiggled her finger at one of the cages, and dropped her leftover cheese inside.  "That's how you learned to run your little maze so well.  Oh, if only teenagers were as easy to handle as you are, Mister Scruffles."

Inside the cage, a small black rat grabbed the piece of cheese with a white paw.  He ate it quickly, giving a contemptuous look to Mrs. Wakeman as she walked out of the laboratory.

The rat grinned an evil grin, and started to _speak_.  "So, you are thinkink that I am easy to handle, da?  Vell, you have not been seeink anything yet, Vakeman!"

He glanced at a flask of yellow-green liquid hidden in the back of his cage.  "Tomorrow, ven I am puttink my mind control serum in town vater supply, then every human who has crushed us beneath their boots of oppression vill suddenly be becomink _very_ easy to handle.  For _me_, that is!"

The rat slid a homemade lock pick out from under his water dish, and started working on the cage door.  "Then I vill be usink bourgeois fools as soldiers in my mind-control army.  Ve shall have our revenge for political imprisonment of my Comrades!  And ve shall have our revenge against our Oppressor Vakeman, and her jack-booted robot enforcer!"

The locked popped, and the rat opened the cage door.  "_Vladimir_ has much to do.  Tonight is labor.  Tomorrow is … _revolution_!!!"

* * *

Continued in Chapter Two

* * *


	2. Twisted Sister

* * *

Some Like It 'Bot

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Two – Twisted Sister

* * *

Jenny lay on her bed, flat on her stomach, with a disgusted look on her face. She had converted her right arm into an air cannon, and her left arm into a large funnel. With a soft _pop_, she shot a tennis ball out of her right arm towards the ceiling. The ball bounced off the ceiling, the wall, and the floor, and dropped into the middle of her arm-funnel with a _shoomp._

"Three hundred sixty-two," she mumbled. _Pop-bounce-shoomp._ "Three hundred sixty-three." _Pop-bounce-shoomp._ "Three hundred sixty-four."

Mrs. Wakeman was fixing the last of the connections to Jenny's emergency monitors. "You know, you _could_ look upon this as an opportunity to catch up on your studies." She gestured towards a large, thick book titled _X-J Series Tactical Battle Study Guide_.

Jenny didn't shift her gaze from the wall. "Is that an order, _master_?"

Mrs. Wakeman huffed in frustration, and focused on the monitors. With one last press of a button, the screens hummed back to life, displaying maps and links to police computers, emergency departments, and Skyway Patrol. She started to leave the bedroom, then paused. "You can spend the rest of the weekend brooding if you like, XJ-9. But that will do _nothing_ to convince me that you have learned how to act responsibly." With that, she closed the door and walked downstairs.

Jenny fired the tennis ball one more time, then let it fall to the floor, bored out of her mind. She converted her arms back to normal, rolled over, and clasped her hands behind her head. _So apparently the way to teach me responsibility is to ruin my life. She just wants to make sure that I never have any fun._ She glanced at her alarm clock. A big part of Saturday was already wasted, and the big concert was going to start in less than two hours. The girls would be waiting at the Coliseum for Jenny to show up with the tickets. They were going to be furious with her. _They'll never speak to me again._

She _could_ simply go to the concert anyway. _It's really not like Mom could stop me, right? Oh, she would go totally nuclear if I did something like that. But would things be any worse than they are right now? I mean, it's not like she would reprogram me, or dismantle me … right?_ Jenny wondered for a moment. Mom just _might_ do something like that. It was _still_ almost worth the risk to see that concert.

"Pssst! Pssst! Anyone home?" A voice came from the window. It couldn't be Brad or Tuck, because her mother had already chased them off earlier that morning.

Drew popped his head through the window, and held up a large, fat brown envelope. "Hey Jenny! I was coming over to say hi, and a guy in a van was delivering this to your front door."

She lowered her voice. "Drew? Come on in, but be quiet. Don't want the _warden_ to hear us." _A few minutes of company would be a nice break in the day, at least._

He stepped through the window, and handed the envelope to her. Jenny ripped it open and winced. "Oh, it's the tickets from the radio station! And the backstage passes! And four official concert tee shirts!" It was all salt for her wounds.

"Wow, front row seats," Drew said with a whistle. "You and your screaming girlfriends are gonna have a great time."

"No, we're _not_," growled Jenny. "I can't go to the concert. Mom _grounded_ me."

"_What?!?_ Didn't you tell her about winning the contest?"

"That's practically _why_ I'm grounded."

"Geez, Jen – that's _rough_. I know you were really excited about it. How long are you stuck in here for?"

"As long as Mom feels like," she pouted. Jenny took a deep breath, and sat up on her bed. "It's not even just about missing the concert. Everyone was so excited for me yesterday, and for once, everybody wished they were _me_. This was going to be the greatest day of my _life_. Now, I don't get to go to the concert, and I don't get to meet the Back Sync Boys, but I _do_ get to become a social leper for the rest of eternity."

"Well, that just _sucks_." Drew thought for a moment. "So you're stuck here all day? Is there anything Brad or I can get for you?"

"Not unless you can sneak the Back Sync Boys in here. And their instruments. And their stage show. And maybe a few fireworks, too."

Drew smiled sympathetically, and shrugged. "_Probably_ not going to happen. Sorry."

"Thanks anyway." She slumped back against the wall. The only reason she wasn't crying was that she'd emptied her tear reservoirs hours earlier.

Suddenly she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Jenny jumped to her feet. "Oh, no, it's my mother! I'm not supposed to have any visitors!" She clenched her teeth. _What, is she going to check on me every ten minutes? _Mom was already at the top of the stairs. "Maybe she's just going to the linen closet …"

_No such luck._ Her bedroom door opened, and her mother looked in. "XJ-9? I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be working in my laboratory for the afternoon."

"Okay, Mom, that's great!" blurted Jenny, a little too quickly.

Mrs. Wakeman almost seemed to sense the guilt. "Did I hear you talking to somebody in here, young lady?"

"Nobody in here but us robots," she answered, pleased with her secret little joke. However, she quickly glanced her eyes back and forth, and sure enough, she was _alone_ in her bedroom. _Where's Drew? Did he jump out the window or something?_

Her mother gave her a suspicious stare. "Very well, then. Monitor duty!" The door closed, and thankfully, her mother walked back down the stairs to concentrate on her science experiments.

Jenny took a deep sigh of relief. "Drew? Are you still in here?"

A faint oozing sound came from her pile of stuffed animals, and it was only then that Jenny noticed a big, comical panda bear that she didn't remember owning. The panda's black and white fur started to shimmer into waves of silver-green, then it stood upright and continued oozing and stretching into the shape of an android. A few seconds later, Drew had returned to his normal gray-green self.

"Wow, _that_ was a neat trick," she giggled. _Hmmmm._

Jenny started to think.

Drew shrugged and smiled. "Hey, didn't want to get you in any more trouble than you're already in."

"Mom didn't even notice you there. _I_ couldn't even tell it was you until you changed back. Just like yesterday, when you impersonated the vice principal. It was pretty convincing." A small smile started to form on Jenny's face.

"Well, it's only convincing if you don't shake my hand or anything. I still feel like metal."

Jenny's smile grew larger. "But that wouldn't be a problem if you were impersonating somebody _else_ made of metal, would it?"

"Well … no, I suppose not, but who else is …" Drew suddenly felt a cold lump in his stomach. _Oh, no … she isn't serious!_

Jenny had a wide, mischievous grin on her face.

"I always thought it would be cool to have a _twin sister_."

Drew's eyes nearly shot out of his head. "Oh – come – ON! You've got to be _kidding_!"

"You could do that … shapeshift-thing … and you'd look _just like me_, wouldn't you?"

"Okay, that's crazy! That's not only crazy, it's just plain _wrong!!!_ And crazy! _You're _crazy!!!"

"Just think about it for a minute," Jenny said excitedly. "All you'd have to do is hang out here, in my room, doing _nothing_ for a couple of hours. I could go to the concert, come back here, and my mom would _never _know the difference."

"No. No way. I am _not_ gonna hang out in a girl's bedroom all day. Especially if _I'm the girl!_" A look of panic spread on his face as he realized that Jenny _was_ serious about this. "Oh, geez, if anyone ever found out about this …"

"_Nobody_ is going to find out. It's _foolproof!_ Drew, I _really, really_ want to go to that concert. And if I don't go, then my _friends_ don't get to go either, and their Saturday gets ruined too! That's not fair, is it?" Jenny clasped her hands behind her back, and pouted a little bit. "I know it would be boring sitting around here, and it would be a _big favor_ to ask. But it would really mean a lot to me. Please, Drew? Please?"

"Aw, fer …" Drew gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. _Don't look at the face. Don't look at the face._

_"Please?"_ Drew broke down and cracked an eyelid. Jenny's irresistible puppy-dog face was sweetly smiling twelve inches away. _Aw, man! That's fighting dirty … arrghh …_

Drew's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Step back."

Jenny hopped back, watching eagerly. Drew shook his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Drew's body started to shimmer with waves of silver-green. His legs streamlined a bit, and he grew about six inches taller. His midsection shifted to a more … _feminine _proportion. His face rounded and softened, and two small blobs sprung out of the top of his head, forming triangular pigtails. The shimmering stopped, and his grey-green coloring was replaced with steel and pale blue. And finally … _Poit!_ A small blue bolt formed in the middle of his belly.

Drew's eyes were still closed. "I can't look."

Jenny bounced on her toes, and cupped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. "This is _so cool!_ It's _fantastic!_" She grabbed Drew by the shoulders and pulled him to the front of a full-length mirror. Drew finally opened his eyes. Sure enough, there was now a _pair_ of Jennys standing in the bedroom. The only difference was that one was a _lot_ happier than the other.

Drew tried to compose "himself". "Okay, Jenny, ha-ha, you've had your little fun. But this won't work. Listen to my _voice!_ Testing one-two-three. Hello! Guy's voice, girl's body."

Jenny had sold herself on this plan by now, and wasn't about to let a minor detail trip things up. "Let me think. I know there's a spare one around here somewhere …" She started rummaging through some boxes in her closet, while Drew just stared at himself in the mirror, stunned.

"A-ha! Problem solved," she announced triumphantly. Jenny held up a small electronic device. "It's one of my old voice modulators. Mom replaced mine a couple of weeks ago with a new one, but this one should still work. Try it!"

Drew took the small device from her hand. "I don't know about this." _Well, it doesn't have any moving parts …_ He sighed, tossed it in his mouth, and felt his nano-probes start to integrate with the circuitry of the modulator.

Drew grimaced a bit. A few faint _beeps_ chirped from his throat.

Jenny couldn't restrain her excitement. "Well? Say something!"

Drew folded his arms across his chest. "I _knew_ this wasn't going to work," he said – in a _perfect_ duplication of Jenny's voice. He slapped his hand over his mouth.

Jenny let out a tiny squeal, then giggled into her hands. "You sound _just like me!_ Oh, this is too much fun." She studied their reflections in the mirror for a few seconds, and turned Drew around in a circle, studying him from all sides.

Drew was getting more flustered by the minute. "Jenny, what the heck are you _doing_?"

She tapped her chin, studying her doppelganger carefully. "I know what's missing."

"Missing? What's missing? I … "

Jenny grabbed Drew by the shoulders, and shoved him down into a chair in front of a small table. Her left hand folded back into her arm, and a soft polishing wheel deployed. It _whirred_ up to speed, and Jenny started to run the polisher over Drew's face.

"Blrghh!!!" Drew waved his arms at the tool.

"Stop squirming. Just sit still for a minute."

Two minutes later, Jenny retracted her polishing tool. "I always like to put a little shine on my cheeks first thing in the morning. And …" She reached for a small bottle on her dresser, filled with finely ground, blue metal filings. The label read _Cobalt Morning Sky._ Jenny dabbed a brush in the filings and lightly dusted Drew's cheeks. "… a little blush, and you're all done. What do you think?"

"Please shoot me now."

"Drew, you look _great,_" she giggled. "Now for your nails."

"Why is this necessary if I'm not going anywhere?" he protested.

She couldn't resist. "Well, a girl's always got to look her best," she laughed.

"Okay, that's it. I'm outta here."

Jenny shoved him back into the chair. "All you have to do is kick back and relax. Mom's going to be working in her lab all day," she reassured him. "She'll lose track of time down there. You probably won't even see her. "

Drew motioned towards the ceiling monitors. "And what if those things start going off?"

"Just give me a call on the remote." She pointed to one of the wall monitors. "Press that big blue button, and you can talk to me on my video screen. It works just like the one my mom uses to call me at school."

Drew sighed, and buried his head in his hands. "There's got to be at least fifty reasons why this doesn't have a chance of working," he said. "Hurry up and get out of here before I think of them."

"Yes!" Jenny pumped her fists. "Back Sync Boys, here I come! Drew, you're the best!"

Jenny grabbed the envelope with the concert tickets, passes, and other assorted goodies, and hopped out of her bedroom window. Her pigtails rotated into position and … _blam_, she sailed into the sky, spinning in giddy barrel rolls, heading towards the Tremorton Coliseum.

Drew plopped himself down into a beanbag chair, looked over into the mirror, and tugged at his cute, blue pigtails.

"Oh, yeah. It's official. I am completely out of my mind."

* * *

Mrs. Wakeman dabbed a few beads of perspiration from her forehead. She'd actually gotten a lot of work done this afternoon on the new prototype engines for XJ-9's pigtail propulsion system. In a couple of weeks, they should be ready for a test firing. But that was only if she kept to her production schedule, and of course, she'd just run out of micro-fusion regulators.

"Isn't that always the way," she sighed. "You always think you have plenty of regulators lying around until you actually _need_ one. Well, it looks like a quick jaunt to the hardware store is in order."

She'd just quickly zip upstairs to let her daughter know that she was leaving. XJ-9 had been quiet … _uncharacteristically_ quiet … all afternoon. No crying spells, no teenage tantrums. Mrs. Wakeman felt a mixture of uncertainty and sneaking suspicion as she left her laboratory.

As soon as she walked out, a rustle of activity came from the animal cages on the shelf. One cage's door flew open, and a small black rat jumped down to the floor, struggling with a large flask of greenish-yellow liquid. He caught his balance, and ran to the far corner of Mrs. Wakeman's lab, where she kept the husks of her old half-completed robots. The rat scurried underneath an oily drop cloth, and a few moments later, the lab was filled with the sound of a small wrench, ratcheting away.

* * *

Drew had to admit that Jenny was right about one thing … there was absolutely _nothing_ to do in here. Considering the alternatives, he was perfectly happy with that. He'd been sure that the monitors were going to start sounding off like air raid sirens at any moment. After spending the first hour in Jenny's bedroom on pins and needles, suffering through a mixture of paranoia and _extreme_ awkwardness, Drew had calmed down a bit. He glanced at the clock – Jenny's concert was underway, and she should be enjoying herself right about now. _Well, I'm glad one of us is._

There were plenty of magazines lying about, and he'd been bored enough to read ten pages of _Teen Scene_. Right up to the article on the perfect prom dress. _Okay, that's enough of that._ He killed some time with a large, thick book called _Battle Study _something-or-other. It was actually kind of interesting, listing all the weapons and attack modes that Jenny was capable of using during a fight. And Jenny had an amazing inventory at her disposal. _I would never have thought you could use a cappuccino dispenser as a weapon._

Drew stood up, yawned, and stretched his arms. He started scratching his butt until he caught his reflection in the mirror, and had to chuckle. _Not really very lady-like of me._ He took a closer look at Jenny's emergency monitors. Lots of chatter and petty crimes, but nothing serious enough to warrant his – or her – attention. These monitors had pretty high-quality displays. Drew studied the dials, trying to make sense of them. _Hmmm … I wonder if I could get SportsCenter on this thing?_

Then the bedroom door opened, and Mrs. Wakeman stepped in. He hadn't even heard her come up the stairs. Drew froze in terror as she looked directly at him. He was certain that the jig was up.

"XJ-9? Is everything all right? You're certainly being very quiet up here, young lady."

_Holy cow, she actually thinks I'm Jenny. Say something, stupid!_

"Everything's fine, Doc. No … _Mom!_ Everything's just fine … eh … Mom. Heh-heh." _Oh, smooth_.

Mrs. Wakeman arched an eyebrow, and glanced around the room. XJ-9 was standing attentively in front of one of her emergency monitors. And _X-J Series Tactical Battle Study Guide _was lying on the floor, cracked open to the section on proper use of beam weaponry. And she wasn't giving her backtalk about that silly concert. _Good Heavens! She's actually behaving!_

"Well, I must say I'm pleasantly surprised. I rather expected one of your temperamental displays of teenage melodrama."

"Umm …" _Whoops, should I be acting mad at her? Too late for that now._ Drew tried to conjure up sweet, girly smile. "Well, you _did_ tell me I was on monitor duty."

"I suppose I did, at that. Well, I need to run out to Hardware Depot to pick up a set of regulators. I shouldn't be too long. If you're thirsty, you may go down to the kitchen. There's motor oil, anti-freeze, and transmission fluid – that diet kind you like. But bring it straight back to your room."

"Sure, Mom. Thanks_,_" grinned Drew. _Hey, Jenny, I'm buttering up your mother for you!_

Mrs. Wakeman left the bedroom with a surprised smile on her face, and left the house. A few moments later, Drew heard the station wagon start up, and leave the driveway.

Drew let out a big sigh of relief.

With Dr. Wakeman out of the house, this was going to be a cinch! _Maybe Jenny will actually get back here before her mom does. Man, she might actually get away with this._ For the first time that afternoon, Drew started to loosen up a bit. He thought about reverting back to his own appearance – _nobody's around, right?_ – then thought better of it. Someone might show up unexpectedly, or Wakeman might have a camera in this room. _Never hurts to stay a _little_ bit paranoid_.

He walked around the bedroom, in a mood to explore. He inspected the table where Jenny had worked on his face. There had to be thirty bottles of _some_ kind of goop sitting there. _What the heck does she do with this stuff?_ The bottles had names like _Morning Facial Acid Wash_, _Silicone Lubricant For Her_, and _Young Miss Electroplating Fluid_. Yeesh. There were probably more chemicals here than there were downstairs in Dr. Wakeman's lab.

A large machine against the wall seemed to be some kind of diagnostics unit. There were more curiosities in the closet. A large, rather goofy-looking spare set of eyes. A box of data discs labeled _Language OS Backups_. An empty box for something called an "exo-skin". Lots of spare parts and electronic gizmos. Two stacks of fashion catalogs, even though Jenny didn't own any clothes. _That _hadprobably started a lot of fights in this room.

_Yawn_.

Drew shuffled back to the monitors. _A couple of hours to go, and I can forget that today ever happened._ He started fiddling with the frequency dials on one of the smaller trouble monitors. If he could just pull in one football game – _I don't care who's playing_ – he could kill the rest of the afternoon. Because the only alternative was Jenny's new _Teen Yak_ on her pillow, and he did _not_ care about how to tell if your boyfriend was lying to you …

The bedroom door blasted off its hinges in a cloud of splinters and plaster.

It just about scared the wits out of him. Drew spun around to see a short metal … _something_ standing in the doorway. It was about four feet tall, shaped like a stovepipe, olive green in color, with two arms and four spindly legs whirring and whining furiously as it wobbled into the bedroom. It was another robot! But there was a clear plastic dome in place of a head, and … _what is that thing sitting in there?!?_

"Where the heck did _you_ come from?!?" Drew shouted, in a near panic.

"So, you are forgettink me so soon, robot?!?" growled a voice from the dome. "I have not forgotten you … or your role in subjugation of my Comrades!"

Drew stared, barely believing his eyes. _Is that a _rat_ sitting inside of that thing?!? A _talking _rat?!?_

The robot lumbered a few steps towards Drew, belching oily clouds of exhaust. The rat was madly working levers, dials and switches in what appeared to be some sort of a cockpit. It raised an accusing arm, pointing at him. "Long have I planned my vengeance against brutal oppression of Vakeman regime! Long have I suffered humiliation and indignities of her experiments! Vell … Day of Glorious Revolution has finally arrived! You defeated me once, foolish girl. But today … today you shall taste bitter defeat at hands of _Vladimir_!!!"

Drew gulped. _Okay, it _is_ a talking rat_. With a nasty grudge against Jenny and her mom. _Oh yeah … that's right. _ I'm_ Jenny_.

Well, how much trouble could _one rat_ be? _I mean … it's a _rat.

Drew took a few steps towards the noisy green contraption. "Okay 'Vladimir', er, _Mom_ must have left your cage open. Let's get you back down to the lab."

"Not so fast, arrogant automaton!" Vladimir yanked hard on a large red lever.

A door slid open in the robot suit's midsection, and a muzzle telescoped outward, glowing a brilliant red. Before Drew could react, a blast of energy fired directly into his chest, knocking him backwards with terrific force. He slammed into the bedroom wall, smashing against one of the electronic panels. Sparks crackled as he bounced off and slumped to the floor.

"Holy _cripes_!" he said, shaking his head. He didn't feel any pain, but he felt plenty disoriented. Drew glanced down at his … er, body. There were some scorch marks and indentations on his pale blue chest from the energy beam, but everything seemed to be in one piece. Still, he didn't want to get in the way of another one of _those_.

Drew struggled back to his feet. _Okay, this was not in the job description. Time to call in the cavalry._ And _that's_ when he realized that Jenny's remote link had been reduced to a heap of electronic junk. _Oh, crap._ He pounded on the big blue button, but instead of a video link to Jenny, all he saw was a screen full of static.

Vladimir pressed his attack. "They are sayink that revenge is a dish best served cold! Vell, I beg to differ. I am preferrink my revenge _blazing hot!!!_" The creaky, spindly robot leaned forward, and a rocket nozzle popped out of the bottom of its stovepipe body. With a deafening roar, the rocket fired to life, and the robot lunged into the air towards Drew.

It tackled him, driving both of them through the bedroom window. Glass shattered into thousands of pieces and both robots hurtled into the air, trailing a thick column of smoke. They fought and wrestled, spiraling out of control hundreds of feet above the ground. Drew gathered his wits and looked at the robot's cockpit, where the miserable little rat was holding on for dear life. Vladimir reached for the big red lever that controlled the beam weapon. If he fired now, it would hit him with full force at point blank range.

Figuring he had to do something – _anything_ – Drew balled his right hand into a fist and punched the dome-head of the robot, at the same time that Vladimir pulled the lever. The beam struck him a glancing blow, and both robots spun off into the sky in wildly different directions. The world twisted in sickening circles, but Drew could see the sidewalk rushing up to meet him at high speed.

Drew plowed into the ground, knocking over a mailbox, and sending a fountain of dirt into the air. He lay in the bottom of the crater for a few seconds, while dust and rocks fell back down to earth, amazed that he was still alive. Drew sat up and glanced down at his body, hips, and leg housings. A little banged up, a few scratches on the pale blue finish, but everything was still attached. With a quick _shimmer-ripple_, the damage was repaired.

He picked up the broken mailbox, and scanned the sky, looking for the flying rat. If this crazy rodent was serious, then maybe being Jenny's stunt double wasn't that great of an idea right now …

"Jenny! Jenny, is that you?!?"

He winced, and closed his eyes. _Oh, great._ Now he was out in the open, and somebody had recognized "Jenny". He had to keep up the act a while longer, evil rat or no evil rat. There was no way he was going to let anyone watch "Jenny" turn into Drew.

The voice was calling from a nearby house. "Jenny! Oh, no! Hang on, my sweet! I'll be right there!"

_Hang on, my _what_?!?_

Drew looked down at the mailbox in his hands. Painted on the side was the family name … "Lee".

_Oh … no._

A scrawny, gangly teenager scrambled towards him, his pimpled face a mixture of excitement and concern. He was fighting to catch his breath, and it was _not_ due to the short run from the front steps. His face flushed red, and he brushed his black hair out of his eyes. Then he wiped the grease and sweat from his hand, and held it out.

"Can I give you a hand, J-Jenny?" asked Sheldon. Then he chuckled bashfully, blushed, and snorted.

Drew's eyes shrunk to the size of pencil points.

Suddenly an evil psychotic rat seemed like the _least_ of his problems.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Three

* * *


	3. Band On The Run

* * *

Some Like It 'Bot

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Three – Band On The Run

* * *

Drew stared at Sheldon for a few seconds, stunned into silence, trying to figure out what to do next.  When Jenny concocted this little scheme a few hours ago – shape-shifting and altering his voice to impersonate her – it had seemed insane _then_.  That was when they just needed to fool Dr. Wakeman.  Now a hyper-intelligent rat bent on vengeance was after him.  And as for Sheldon – _Good Lord._  You could practically see the little hearts floating around his head.

"Jenny, are  you all right?" asked Sheldon.  "It looks like you … kinda had a rough landing there."

"Uh, yeah … sorry about the mailbox," Drew managed to stammer out.

"Oh, don't worry about it.  It's replaceable.  _You're_ not."  Sheldon's eyelids were fluttering.

Drew clenched his teeth and shuddered.  _Oh, the horror._

A rumbling, choking screech from overhead suddenly snapped Sheldon out of his amorous gaze.  He shielded his eyes and looked up.  "Wow, would you take a look at that!  Is that another one of your mom's robots?"

Drew looked up to see Vladimir's robot suit diving out of the sky towards him, trailing a dark sooty cloud of exhaust.  A small tube ejected out of the side of the robot's stovepipe-body and a split-second later, its back end ignited.  It was an air-to-ground missile.  It was going to hit in about three seconds.  And Sheldon was standing right next to him.

"Geez, Sheldon, LOOK OUT!"  He lunged out of the crater, tackled Sheldon onto the front lawn, and shielded him with his metal body.  The mini-missile plowed into the crater and detonated with an earth-shaking blast.  Fresh clods of dirt and rock sprayed in all directions.

Drew slapped Sheldon's face.  Even as creeped out as he was right now, he still hoped the little nerd wasn't hurt.  "Hey!  Yo!  You okay there?"

Sheldon blinked a few times, and smiled.  There he was, lying on his back on his front lawn, with "Jenny" leaning over him, showing concern … "I've never been better, my angel."

Drew cringed, wondering just how much worse today could _get_.

Sheldon shook the cobwebs out of his head.  "Jenny … that robot is trying to destroy you!"

"Yeah, no duh," said Drew.  "Get out of the way.  I'll take care of this thing."  Well, at least that _sounded_ like something Jenny would say.  Drew, however, didn't have a clue as to what he was going to do.

Vladimir's robot dropped down on a pillar of flame and landed near the crater with a _thud_.  He opened the door of his beam weapon, and brought it to bear on Drew.  "Enough with the runnink away, little robot girl.  When I am finishink with you, there vill not be enough left for can opener!"  The rat yanked the large red lever on his control panel.

Drew tried to twist out of the way, but the beam still caught him in the leg, and slammed him against the front wall of the Lee house.  Sheldon was horrified – then he ground his teeth in rage, and ran into the garage.

Vladimir's robot lumbered towards Drew, who was still slumped against the wall of the house, trying to gather his senses.  "Pfaah!  So this is best that Vakeman can do?  Is all too easy!  I vill be arrivink at Tremorton vater supply far ahead of schedule!"

Drew knew that taking a few more of those hits couldn't be healthy.  He tried to blink his vision clear as the olive-green robot stopped three feet away from him, and brought its weapon to bear directly at his head.  The barrel hummed with an intense red glow …

Then the robot stumbled backwards, as a slimy pink glob splattered hard against its chest.  Both Vladimir and Drew were surprised, and turned to see where it came from.

Sheldon stood defiantly in the driveway, holding a fantastic-looking rifle topped with a clear tank of thick pink liquid.  Anger crackled in his eyes as he glared at the rat inside the strange green robot.  "Leave her alone, you cheese-eating schnook!  You come to my house, and think you can just shoot your death ray at my Jenny, and have me do nothing about it?  Prepare to taste pink, slimy retribution!"

Sheldon fired, sending a blob of pink goo directly at the barrel of Vladimir's energy weapon.  The pink mess splattered around the barrel, jamming and gumming the mechanism.  Strained servos started to short out, and a wisp of smoke drifted from the olive-green robot's chest.

"NO!!!" shouted Vladimir.  "You miserable, meddling mouth-breather!!!"  The rat jiggled the red lever a couple of times, yielding nothing but squirting, bubbling noises from the barrel of his beam weapon.  "Bah!  Is RUINED!!!"

Drew took advantage, and jumped to his feet.  He swung his right leg in a kick – _about time I do something here_ – that sent Vladimir's robot flying backwards into the street, while managing to keep his own balance.

"Sheldon, you … yeesh, you saved my life."  He wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or embarrassed.  "Where the heck did you _get_ that thing?!?"

"My polymer-based immobilizer?  Built it right here in my workshop," Sheldon beamed proudly, gesturing to the garage.  "I was going to give it to you later as a present."

"You built it _yourself_?  That's pretty impressive."  Sheldon grinned and blushed, and Drew smacked his forehead.  _I have got to watch what I say to this lovesick twit._

They were interrupted by loud, rattling clanks from Vladimir's robot, as it clumsily staggered to its feet with belches of oily smoke.  The rat shook a tiny white first in boiling fury at "Jenny" and Sheldon.  "Your trickery has only delayed your inevitable doom, mechanical stooge!   Vhen my mind-slave army descends on you and Imperialist Vakeman, you vill be turned into tractor parts!  Ve vill bury you!!!"

Orange fire blasted from the robot's rocket nozzle, filling the air with thick, dark exhaust.  It rose on a column of flame and rapidly arced into the air like a missile.

Now Drew was getting plenty worried.  "Water supply?!?  Mind-control army?!?  Somebody's got to stop that maniac!"  He wondered how this call was going to sound to the 911 operator.  _No, you see, it's not a just a talking rat.  It's a talking rat in a rocket-powered battle suit.  Right, mind-control army.  Hello?  Hello?_  No way they were going to believe this story.

Sheldon punched the air with a fist.  "C'mon, Jenny, I know you can do it!  You can still catch him!"

"Jenny" laughed nervously.  "Ah, heh-heh … yeah, you'd think so, wouldn't you?  But I seem to be experiencing a … _malfunction_ in my rockets.  From those energy blasts.  Yeah, sure, that's it."

"You mean you can't fly?" asked Sheldon.

"Afraid not."

"That's _fantastic!!!"_  Sheldon sprinted back into the garage.

"Jenny" raised a confused eyebrow.  "It _is?!?_"

Sheldon was back in a flash, lugging something that looked like a huge metallic backpack.  "This will give you a chance to try this turbo jet pack I've been working on!  Just slip these straps over your shoulders and connect them like this!"  He enthusiastically mounted the backpack on "Jenny's" back, started unfolding the control arms, and began the activation sequence.

Sheldon continued.  "Just fly it with these two controls.  Of course, they operate like standard tri-axis translational joysticks – full manual in normal mode, then self-stabilizing fly-by-wire upon reaching equilibrium cruise velocity.  Heh-heh, but of course … I don't need to tell you that!  Now, remember to watch your fuel mixture as the indicated air speed rises above one hundred knots …"

Sheldon kept talking, and Drew's head was spinning – he felt like he'd been dropped behind the wheel of a space shuttle.  _There's no way I can fly this thing._  Far overhead, Vladimir's robot was growing further and further away.  It was going to reach the water supply in short order.

Somehow, he had to stop Vladimir.  He couldn't reach Jenny.  He couldn't reach Dr. Wakeman _if_ he wanted to.  And he still didn't want to expose this whole masquerade.  He came up with one idea.  By _far_ the craziest idea of the day, and that was saying something, considering the long list of insane things he'd _already_ done today.

"Hold up.  Sheldon, can _you_ fly this thing?"

"Well, of course.  I built it."

Drew closed his eyes and groaned.  "All right, this'll go a lot faster if you do the flying.  Would you …" – _shudder_ – "… like to come with me?"

"Would I?!?"  Sheldon grinned so hard his face almost folded in half – then he scratched his chin.  "Only one problem, Jenny.  There's only one set of straps.  If I hang on, I can't operate the controls.  I need both hands."

"Jenny" grimaced.  "Okay, I'll _hold onto you_.  Now hurry up."

Drew wrapped his arms around Sheldon like a harness, holding him tightly against his chest.  Sheldon blushed about twenty shades of red.  "Isn't this nice and cozy," he chuckled.

"Just start the engines, and keep those hands on those controls, buster," grumbled "Jenny".

Sheldon grabbed the control arms, and flipped a pair of switches.  The jet pack split in half, and unfolded into a wing with two engine pods.  The pods whined to life with a high-pitched squeal, and the unlikely duo blasted into the sky on a pair of steaming exhaust plumes.

* * *

The Tremorton Coliseum was shaking from the ecstatic screams of fifteen thousand teenage girls.  The Back Sync Boys were heading into their big finish after a spectacular show.  After wowing the crowd with an extended version of _Baby I Love You_,  and their classic hit _I Love Your Love Baby_, they were wrapping up the show with their current number one single, _You're My Baby Baby_.  And among the weeping and shouting, down in the front row, were four contest winners having the time of their lives.

Jenny and her friends were swaying back and forth in rhythm to the music.  She'd been on edge earlier in the show, convinced that her belly-bolt would start beeping at any moment with a call to go off and save some stupid cat stuck in a tree.  But the afternoon had been everything she'd dreamed of, and she'd just been enjoying herself for the past two hours.

"This is the best concert _ever_!" she screamed to the rafters.  Actually, it was really the _first_ concert she'd ever been to, but that was nitpicking at this point.  The music was thumping with deep bass and a techno beat, the fog machines were flooding the stage with rolling waves of vapor, and the laser light show was _off the hook_.

Connie started waving her arms frantically, overcome with joy.  "K.J.!  Nicolas!  Logan!  Dakota!  _Omigawd_, I love you!  I love you all!  Marry me, Nicolas!"

"Connie!" laughed Jenny.  "Connie, amp down!  You're embarrassing the rest of us!"

Samantha started tugging at Jenny's shoulder, and pointed excitedly towards the stage.  "Jenny!  Jenny, Logan is _totally looking at you_."

"WHAT?!?  He is?!?  How do I look?!?  _Logan_!"  Jenny lost herself in a dreamy gaze.  A door in her head slid open, and a three-foot wide electronic sign deployed, with flashing lights around the edges.  In blue and white lights, it started scrolling the message _I LUV U LOGAN_, over and over.

"So much for amping down," huffed Connie.

"Just look at him, girls," swooned Jenny.  "Those blue eyes, that long gorgeous hair, that secret little smile that he just gave me …"

Latisha arched an eyebrow.  "You sure you don't have that dream chip of yours stuck to 'on' again?"

"We'll just ask him ourselves," smirked Jenny, "when we meet them after the show!"  All four girls started jumping and squealing madly, for about the thirtieth time that afternoon.

And they were _still_ drowned out by the crowd, screaming on cue as the band finished the chorus – _yeah, you're my baby, baby_ – and broke into a dance routine while the drums and keyboards carried on in the background.  The four pop sensations mugged and flirted to their adoring fans, while the stagehands prepared for the big finale.

Samantha was shouting and yanking on both Jenny's arm _and_ Latisha's arm now.  "Oh!  Oh!  Here it comes!  This is the big finish!  Get ready for the fireworks!"

Smoke pots ignited on either side of the stage, shooting columns of multi-colored sparks into the air in perfect choreography to the music …

Then an explosion blew the center of the stage thirty feet into the air with a deafening roar.

The singers were tossed across the stage and landed with a _thud_ as fragments of plywood fluttered back to the ground.   Stage lights pivoted to focus on the fifteen-foot hole.  The music _screeched_ to a halt.

Connie was a little stunned, then threw her hands into the air.  "Best concert ever!!!"

Jenny looked around at the confused faces on the fans, the stagehands, and the security people.  Everybody was trying to get the ringing out of their ears from the explosion, and looking very nervously towards the stage.  "Girls … I don't think that this is part of the show!"

She tried to see what was happening onstage.  Hydraulic motors whined, raising a scissor-lift from beneath the stage into the rolling fog.  Five dreary figures stood there, dressed in dark, drab colors.  They stepped forward onto the stage, and the fog cleared enough for Jenny to make out their sunken, depressed faces.

"Oh, _brother_," she shouted.  "It's the _Lonely Hearts Club Gang_!  What are _those_ idiots doing here?!?"  _I can't believe my concert is being ruined by these pathetic mopes!_

The Boss, all three feet of him, looked out onto the shocked audience with disgust.  "Look at them all, cheering and screaming for a bunch of made-up pretty boys."  He closed his eyes, and shook his head.  "The girls always went for the musicians in high school, even if they were a bunch of jerks.  It's not fair, I tell you.  It's just not fair.  The rest of us didn't have a chance."

He turned to his henchmen and pointed towards the band members.  "Get 'em, boys!"

The largest henchmen, a massive, sulking lummox, pulled out four large burlap sacks, grumbling.  "D'uh, my fourth girlfriend left me for a drummer!"  The thugs each grabbed a sack, and quickly headed towards the stunned singers.

Latisha screamed in horror.  "They're kidnapping the Back Sync Boys!"

"Oh, no they're not," growled Jenny.  She leapt over the security barrier and dropped onto the stage in one fluid motion, only a few yards away from a very surprised Lonely Hearts Club Gang.  These guys were small timers.  _This should be over in about thirty seconds._

"The robot girl?!?" shouted the Boss.  "You certainly didn't waste any time getting here!"

"All right, you lovelorn losers … let's get this over with.  The sooner I send you off to jail, the sooner the boys can play their first encore."

"So you're a fan of shallow musical hacks too, hmm?  Well, I think you'll find that the concert is ending on a _sour note_."  He pointed to one of his henchmen.  "Hit it!"

The henchman reached into his burlap sack and pulled out … a set of _bagpipes_.  He slung them over his shoulder and blew into the mouthpiece.  The pipes squealed with ear-shattering volume, filling the arena with a piercing, mournful dirge.  Jenny slapped her hands over her auditory inputs, and just about everyone else in the Coliseum covered their ears, groaning in agony.

The Boss took a deep breath and drank in the shrieking music.  "Ah, the bagpipes.  Their wail symbolizes the futility of life, and the folly of happiness.  They are the saddest, most miserable, depressing sound there is.  Next to country music, of course."  He snapped his fingers.  "Back to business, boys!"

The Lonely Hearts Club Gang rounded up the four Back Sync Boys, who were now both stunned and twitching in agony at the screeching bagpipes.  They quickly tossed a burlap sack over each of them, and started carrying them away – K.J., Dakota, Nicolas, and Logan …

The sight of Logan being stuffed into a burlap sack snapped Jenny back into action.  Still clamping her hands to the sides of her head, she raised her right leg in the air, cracked open her leg housing, and deployed a crossbow.  Jenny took careful aim at the gangster's bagpipes, and shot an arrow that pierced the pipes' air bladder.  The gangster blew furiously into the mouthpiece, while his bagpipes deflated in his arms with a muffled whine.

Jenny lunged forward, knocked the bagpipe gangster on his butt, and landed in front of the rest of the gang.  She raised a fist towards the Boss.  "That's just about enough out of you guys.  Now let those highly talented, and extremely cute, boys go _right now_, or _you'll_ be singing the blues.  So help me, if you hurt _one hair on their head …_"

The gangsters froze in their tracks, blocked from escape by the teenage super-robot.  From one of the burlap sacks, one of the Back Sync Boys, Logan, popped his head out, trying to see what was going on.

"Whoa, no way!  Dakota, I told you she was a real robot!"

Another head popped out from a different burlap sack.  "Whoa, no kidding?"  Dakota shouted towards a short, fat man standing just off-stage.  "Hey!  Morty!  Check it out!  We're being saved by a robot!"

Morty, manager and agent of the Back Sync Boys, flung his arms in the air with excitement.  "Fantastic, baby!  Kidnapped by gangsters and rescued by a robot!  This publicity is worth millions!  Millions, baby!  I'm going to make sure this is the top story on every TV news program tonight!"

He gestured towards the stage technicians and began barking out orders.  "Get those lights on her!  Cue up the cameras!  This gimmick is gold, baby!"  Morty started making calls on his cell phone.

Jenny was just about ready to round up the Lonely Hearts, when she noticed the huge video screens on either side of the stage.  They had been showing clips of the band, but now they had switched to a live shot of _her_.  A pair of thirty-foot images of her face stared out at the crowd.

She overheard Morty yelling into his cell phone.  "Get every news crew you have over to the Tremorton Coliseum, baby!  I got your lead story right here!  Robot saves teen singing sensations!"

Jenny was flush with excitement at the thought of all that attention focused on her.  _I'm going to be the girl who saved the Back Sync Boys,_ she grinned to herself.  _I'm going to be on the evening news!  I'm going to be famous!!!_

A thought suddenly occurred to her.

Mom_ watches the evening news._

This was a _catastrophe!_ If her mother found out that she had defied her orders, and gone to the concert behind her back, she'd be grounded for a year – if she was _lucky_.

Panicking, Jenny blasted over to the side of the stage and grabbed Morty's cell phone.  She started shouting into it.  "No!  Don't send any news crews!  There's nothing to see here!  Just a big misunderstanding!  A great, big misunderstanding!"

Morty nearly had a heart attack.  "What?!?  What are you doing?  You're killing my P.R., baby!"

The gangsters weren't sure what Jenny's problem was, but they were grateful for the distraction.  The boss ran over to the fog machine, and cranked the dial up to its maximum setting.  A thick blanket of white vapor poured over the stage, and into the first ten rows of spectators.  People screamed and coughed, and for a few moments, Jenny couldn't see anything.

She fixed that quickly.  Her elbows unhinged, and a pair of giant propeller blades slid out of her arms.  She pivoted them towards the center of the stage and revved them up to full power, quickly driving the thick fog away.

Then she gasped.  The stage was empty.  The Lonely Hearts Club Gang, and the Back Sync Boys, were gone.

* * *

Drew and Sheldon corkscrewed wildly through the skies high over Tremorton, in fevered pursuit of Vladimir's battle robot.  They could see the Lake Tremorton reservoir in the distance, getting nearer, but they were also getting closer to the olive-green flying stovepipe.

The wind blasted their faces as the jetpack lurched left and right, making for a very bumpy, stomach-churning ride.  "Sh-Sh-Sheldon!" yelled Drew.  "I th-th-thought you said you could fly this th-th-thing!!!"

A patch of turbulence spun them through two barrel rolls, but Sheldon managed to level them out, only fifty yards behind Vladimir.  "See, I knew we could do it!  We're right on top of him, Jenny!  Now you can bring him down with one of your fancy lasers!"

Drew frowned.  He hadn't thought this far ahead.  "Yeah … about those fancy lasers …"

Sheldon looked back over his shoulder at "Jenny".  "They're malfunctioning too?"

"Uh … okay, sure.  Let's go with that."

"Not a problem!"  _Now I get a chance to impress her even more!_  "I've stocked this baby with a few _optional extras_!"  Sheldon pressed a trigger switch on the right controller, and small rocket spat out of the jet pack with a _whoomp_.  Its motor ignited, and it blasted off towards Vladimir …

And flew right past him, weaving wildly back and forth, until it suddenly dove towards the ground and slammed into the sign of the North Hills Bowl-A-Rama.  People screamed and ran for cover as pieces of giant, neon bowling pins crashed to the sidewalk.

Sheldon blushed, with a nervous smile.  "Ahh … they _are_ still in the testing phase."

"Jenny" sighed.  "All right, let's just take the direct approach.  Fly us right underneath him!"

"Aye aye, Cap'n Jenny!"  Sheldon squeezed a throttle control, and their speed increased.  In a matter of moments, they were flying directly underneath the olive-green robot.

Drew wanted to get underneath Vladimir so that Sheldon couldn't see what he was about to try.  His pale blue legs started to shimmer silver-green, and stretched upwards towards Vladimir's robot.  He concentrated, and managed to form a large clamp at the end of each leg.  With one last stretch, he grabbed on to the flying stovepipe.

"Got him!" shouted Drew.  _Holy smoke, that actually worked!_

Drew's sense of triumph lasted about half a second.  Vladimir started randomly working his flying controls, desperately trying to shake off his robotic pursuer.  Drew held on tight, but the combined gyrations of Vladimir's robot and Sheldon's jet pack soon sent them into a wild, uncontrolled spiral.

Three voices screamed at the top of their lungs as the entangled robots plummeted towards the outskirts of town.  _This is the second time I've hurtled towards the earth in the past hour_, Drew moaned to himself.  _Any chance of landing somewhere soft?_  Didn't look like it.  They were diving towards the north parking lot of the Tremorton Mall.

* * *

Jenny jumped down through the hole at center stage, figuring this was the only route the Lonely Hearts could have used.  Sure enough, there was the scissor-lift, sitting in a concrete tunnel that ran underneath the Coliseum.  But there was no sign of the Gang or the Boys.  _They couldn't have gotten far!  At least I _hope_ they haven't gotten far!_  Her only hope was to get the band back safely, and try to fast-talk them into keeping everything out of the news … if that was even possible any longer.  She had to try, though.  _Mom would burst an artery if she knew I was here!_

She flew down the tunnel, which wound up leading her outside into the Coliseum parking lot.  All she could see was acres and acres of cars.  _Oh, no!  How am I supposed to find their car in the middle of all of this?!?  I've got to try.  If anything happened to Logan, I would just die!_  She leapt into the air and started circling around the Coliseum parking lot.  They had to be here somewhere, and she was going to find them, no matter how long it took.

And they were there, still unseen to Jenny flying high above.  In the middle of the parking lot, a big black sedan sat with its engine running.  The Lonely Hearts Club Gang was inside, with the four Back Sync Boys tied up in burlap sacks.

"D'uh, Boss, what are we gonna do with them?" whined another one of the gangsters.

"I'll tell you exactly what we're going to do with them," said the Boss, looking very depressed.  "These four record industry Romeos represent everything that is phony about romance.  Legions of girls scream for them, pledging their undying love.  But what they love is a mere illusion, conjured up by some marketing department in an office somewhere.  We will expose that illusion for all to see."

Logan spoke up.  "What are you lunatics babbling about?!?"

The Boss moped on.  "The robot girl herself gave me the idea.  She said not to harm a _single hair_ on your heads.  You four are products of a cruel society which says that only the beautiful people should ever experience true love.  People with beautiful faces and beautiful hair.  Well, let's see how your fans take it when the objects of their affection are a little less beautiful."

He clasped his hands behind his back.  "We're going to shave them bald, boys."

Dakota nearly spat his teeth out.  "What?!?  You can't!  That's crazy!  We have a photo shoot tomorrow!"

"I remember Dorothy, my second girlfriend," the Boss moaned to himself.  "She dumped me after I started going bald.  And that was in junior high."

"D'uh, we got no scissors or clippers, Boss."

"Then we shall simply drive to the closest hair salon, gentlemen.  Fasten your seat belts."

The whiny gangster revved the engine and shifted into gear.  The tires squealed on the big black sedan, and it fishtailed out of the parking lot, towards the highway.  The sound of the tires carried high into the air, where Jenny was scanning with telescopes and radar dishes.

"That's them!" she shouted.  _I've got you now, you depressing dweebs_.  Jenny dove towards the highway, following a big black sedan that was recklessly weaving through heavy traffic.  She was going to have to be careful here – her programming told her that it would be difficult to stop the speeding car without creating an accident, or harming the hostages inside.  And she _still_ wanted to try and keep everything as quiet as possible, so the last thing she wanted to do was cause a highway pile-up.

Jenny figured she'd simply catch the sedan, pick it up, and carry it back to the Coliseum, but it turned out that the Lonely Hearts weren't going that far on the highway.  Their sedan pulled off at the very next exit, and roared into the south parking lot of the Tremorton Mall.

* * *

Mrs. Wakeman groaned in frustration, and tried to explain it again to the store clerk.  "For the last time, I asked you if you had any more _micro-fusion regulators_.  The ones on the shelf were the wrong size.  How difficult can that possibly be?"

The teenage store clerk held up the parts in his hands.  "Uh … are these the right size?"

"_Those_ are lawn sprinklers."

"Oh," mumbled the clerk.  "Uh … do you need any lawn sprinklers?"

"What I need is to speak to somebody with functioning brain matter," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Uh … I'm not sure if we carry that, either."  The clerk yelled to his manager.  "Mr. Johanssen!  This old lady is looking for micro foosball roller gators!"

"Oh, for the love of Oppenheimer … do you or do you not have any micro-fusion regulators in stock?"

A chubby, balding man ambled over to Mrs. Wakeman.  "Ah, let's see here … oh yeah, these things just fly off the shelves this close to the holidays, eh?  We won't get another shipment in until next Tuesday.  But I tell you watcha can do, ya?  They carry stuff like that over at the new Circuit Suburb, over in the mall, there."

Mrs. Wakeman tapped her chin.  "A new Circuit Suburb, you say?  At the mall?  Hmm.  Normally, I wouldn't want to get within a mile of that three ring circus on Saturday afternoon … but I do want to get back to work on those new engines for my daughter."

"Aw, that's sweet, eh?  They for her car?"

"No, they're for her head."

"Well, that's real nice too, youbetcha.  You have yourself a good day now, eh?"

With that, Mrs. Wakeman left the store and headed back to her station wagon.  The Tremorton Mall was a zoo on Saturdays, but it was only two miles up the road.  And since she was by herself, she wouldn't have the distraction of her daughter begging for every fashionable trinket and knick-knack that caught her eye.  _Honestly, XJ-9 can make such a production out of a simple purchase of supplies.  Well, at least she won't be gallivanting about the mall today._

Traffic was actually flowing well.  _Perhaps I'll manage to zip in and out without too much trouble._  Mrs. Wakeman quickly found herself pulling into the west parking lot of the Tremorton Mall.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Four

* * *


	4. Scenes From A Mall

* * *

Some Like It 'Bot

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Four – Scenes From A Mall

* * *

The Tremorton Mall was filled with people buzzing away on both levels, as was usual for a Saturday afternoon, but wasn't crowded enough to be uncomfortable.  While the serious shoppers powered their way through the stores, others simply relaxed at the food court in the middle of the mall, wasting the afternoon as creatively as they could.

That's the situation Brad found himself in, after blowing thirty dollars in quarters at the arcade.  He had planned to kill an hour or two, hanging with friends from school, and flirting with the ladies.  That had proven to be a little difficult with his little brother tagging along, though; Tuck could be pretty demanding on his time when he wanted to be.

Brad sighed, as Tuck stared him down from over their table.  "All right, here are the rules," said Brad.  "The French fry may only be touched with the straw.  Once it's off the table, it must be dropped in the cup.  First one to drop a fry loses."

"It's go time!" shouted Tuck.  The brothers started sucking on their soda straws, moving leftover fries from their greasy trays into their soda cups.  Tuck's facial expression was so hilarious that Brad almost spit his straw out of this mouth, but he hung on, and Tuck only managed to drop in three fries before his little lungs gave out.

Tuck's blue cheeks gasped for air.  "Aw, nuts!"

Brad eased his hands behind his head.  _And, that's about the most excitement I've had today.  Yahoo.  _"Congratulations, you have just won the chance to be 'Busboy For A Day'.  If you'll do the honors?"

Tuck cleared the wrappers and trash off the table and walked over towards the trash bins.  "Mister breath control thinks he's such a hot shot," he muttered to himself.

Tuck emptied off the tray, and then bumped into a large, hulking man in a drab, pinstripe suit.  "Whoops.  Sorry about that, mister."

"D'uh, that's all right, little boy.  Say, can I ask youse a question?"

"Uh … I guess so."  Tuck was a little distracted by the wriggling burlap sack that the big man had slung over his shoulder.

"Do youse know where there might be a hair salon in dis mall?"

Tuck gestured to his left.  "Well ... my mom takes me to the 'Kwicky Kuts' down at that end."

The big fellow tipped his hat, and joined four other depressed men carrying burlap sacks.  They ran off in the direction that Tuck pointed to.

The little guy shrugged to himself.  "Well, that was kinda strange.  Oh well … time for dessert!"

Tuck ran back to his big brother, who was slouched back in his chair, bored senseless.  He climbed up on his chair and started bouncing up and down.  "All right, let's get cinnamon rolls!  The kind with the gooey, sticky icing that makes you sick to your stomach!"

Brad glanced up at Tuck through half-closed eyes.  "I already bought you ice cream.  And cookie dough.  And half a pound of mint ripple fudge!  I think you've had too much sugar for one afternoon.  You're going to vibrate out of your skin, or start hallucinating, or something."

"There is no such thing as _too much_ sugar.  C'mon, Brad, for an extra fifty cents they give you double icing!"

"For Pete's sake … here, just go buy your own."  Brad handed his little brother a few dollars.

"Pleasure doing business with you," grinned Tuck, clutching the money in his little hands.  He sprinted off to the Cinna-Mania counter and ordered the biggest, sweetest, stickiest cinnamon roll on the menu, bouncing up and down in anticipation.  But while he was waiting, he heard an odd whining, grinding noise coming from behind him.

Something bumped into him.  When he turned to look, he was surprised to see that it wasn't a person.  It was a strange machine, olive-green in color, about four feet tall.  It looked like a _robot_, but it had a clear plastic dome on top, slightly cracked, and inside the dome was … a _rat_, sitting in a chair, working a control panel.  Both the robot and the rat looked like they'd just been hit by a bus.

The rat looked down, saw Tuck staring at him, and spoke.  "Vhat are you lookink at, annoyink child?!?"  Then it turned away, and the robot hobbled off towards one end of the mall, drawing perplexed stares as it went.

Tuck blinked a few times, then took his cinnamon roll from the counter lady.  "Maybe I _have_ had too much sugar for one afternoon."  He thought about that for a few seconds.  "Nah, that's crazy talk."

Licking the icing off his fingers, Tuck made his way back to the table and sat down.  "Hey, Brad … have you seen anything _strange_ go by here in the past couple of minutes?"

Brad chuckled at his little brother.  "Be a little more specific, junior.  You have a pretty broad definition of the word 'strange'."

"Okay, smart guy, how about five mopey men in suits carrying wiggling sacks around the mall?" Tuck huffed.  "Or a robot with a mouse in a cockpit, driving it around, bumping into helpless little kids?"

Brad shook his head in frustration.  "See, _this_ is why I told you not to put the 'en fuego' sauce on those tacos.  Now you're going to have nightmares tonight, and you'll scream that there's moon spiders in your bed, or zombie cows outside the window.  And Dad'll blame me!  Wiggling sacks and robots … _pffft_.  The only robot _we_ know is doing hard time back in her bedroom."

"Uh … it looks like she's out on parole."  Tuck pointed behind Brad's back.

Sure enough, Jenny was running through the mall in their direction.  She was looking left and right as she ran, like she was frantically looking for somebody.  And she almost seemed to be a little nervous.  Brad was surprised, and happy, to see that she'd gotten out for the afternoon.

"Hey, Jen!  Over here!" he shouted.

"AAIIIGGHHH!!!"  Jenny jumped like she'd been hit with a downed power line.  "Brad – Tuck – it's just you.  _Phew_.  Thank goodness."

Okay, she seemed to be a _lot_ nervous.  "Well, it's great to see you too," Brad said, a little hurt, and a little confused.

"I'm sorry, guys, I didn't mean anything.  You just … _startled_ me."

"Your mom let you out of the house!" blurted Tuck, still fueled with sugar.  "That's great!  You wanna come with me to the comic book store?  Or play a round of mini golf?  C'mon, Jenny!!!"

She waved her arms furiously.  "Shhhhh!!!  Not so loud!!!  Why don't you just tell the whole _world_ where I am?"

A small smile grew on Brad's face.  "Ahhhh … Tuck, it appears that our friend here is _not_ out on parole.  It's more like a _jailbreak_.  Way to go, Jen!" he laughed.

"No, no, that's not why I'm … hmmm … okay, that _is_ why I'm here, kind of."  Jenny clasped her hands, pleading."  Guys, please, _please_, pretend like you didn't see me here today!"

"C'mon, Jen," said Brad, "we'd never rat on you."

Jenny was almost frantic.  "I'm still supposed to be _grounded_!  Oh … If Mom ever found out I've been out of the house …"

"Found out?  All she has to do is go upstairs and look in your bedroom," said Tuck.

"I've got that angle covered," said Jenny, "but if she sees something on TV, I'm _dead_."

"Why would she see you on television?"  That didn't make any sense to Brad.

"The Lonely Hearts Club Gang," Jenny explained excitedly, hands flailing.  "At the concert!  See, they were there, and I was there, and the show was on, and it totally rocked, and then big finish, and Boom!, and they grabbed them, and then the cameras, and they got away, and I chased them, and now they're here, and I've got to find them before it turns into a big stink on the evening news and I get _busted_!"

Tuck scratched his head.  "Are they five droopy-looking guys in suits?  Each carrying a sack of ferrets or something?"

Jenny grabbed Tuck and lifted him up to her face.  "That's _them_!!! Tuck, you saw them?!?"

"Yeah, one of them said they were looking for a hair salon, and I sent them to Kwicky Kuts."

Jenny slapped her hands to the sides of her head, dropping Tuck to the floor.  "Hair salon?!?  What are they gonna do there?!?  Oh, wow … I've gotta go!!!"

And before Brad or Tuck could utter another syllable, a set of wheels deployed from Jenny's feet.  They spun up a cloud of smoke, and she sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust, paper wrappers, and flattened shoppers in her wake.

Brad jumped up out of his seat.  "Finally!  A little excitement!  I have absolutely no idea what's actually going on, but I'm betting it beats watching you stuff yourself with curly fries.  Let's go check it out!"

Tuck rubbed his sore read end.  "Ouch.  I _tried_ to tell you.  You know, nobody ever listens to me."

"Apparently _gangsters_ listen to you.  What's the big idea helping out a bunch of guys that Jenny's trying to catch?"

"Well, I didn't know they were gangsters!" protested Tuck.  "And besides, what's so wrong about going for a haircut, anyway?"

Brad tapped his chin.  "Hmmm … that's actually a pretty good question.  Jenny was talking so fast that I didn't understand half of what she said.  Something about the concert, and boom, and stinking on the news.  Wow, sounds like it was one heck of a concert!  Let's go find her."

But Tuck didn't budge.  In fact, the little fellow's jaw almost dropped to his knees.

He pointed towards the food court mall entrance.  "W-w-why don't we just wait?  She should be here in about ten seconds."

"Tuck, we just watched her take off like a drag racer."

"Y-yeah, that's what I thought too."

"Wha - ?" Brad turned to see what Tuck was looking at and … _that's impossible._

Jenny staggered into the food court from the north entrance, looking right and left as she walked, as if she was _still_ searching for something.  And she wasn't looking so hot herself all of the sudden.  She had a few dents and scrapes on her legs and body, and one pigtail seemed a bit crooked.  _How did she get so banged up?  And how did she get outside that fast?_

"Curiouser and curiouser," wondered Brad.  "C'mon, short stuff."

The brothers made their way through the food court crowd, over to where Jenny was standing.  She seemed to be scanning the area, while resting against a handrail.  She'd gotten awfully tired all of the sudden.

"Uh … you take a wrong turn there, Jen?" asked Brad.

Jenny spun around, and nearly jumped out of her metal skin.  "BRAD?!?  TUCK?!?"  She was speechless for a few seconds.  "_Hi_," she managed to weakly stammer out.  Her eyes were shifting left and right like a cornered animal, and she tried to force a smile – a very unconvincing one.

Brad's brain was really spinning now.  _What the heck is the deal here?_

"Did you find the gangsters?" asked Tuck.

Jenny blinked a few times.  "Gangsters?  What gangsters?"

Tuck tossed his arms up.  "What do you mean, what gangsters?  The ones you just told us you were looking for!  Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, you okay, Jen?" asked Brad.  "I mean, look at you.  You look like you just fell off a building or something!"

"Heh-heh … or as if I've just plummeted hundreds of feet and crashed into a parking lot.  Guys, I really have to go."

Something clicked, and a small smile started to form on Brad's face.  "But Jenny, we're your friends.  We're just concerned about your health."

"No, I'm fine, guys, really.  It's nothing that won't buff right out.  I _really_ have to go now."

"No, Jenny – we _insist._  You look like you could use a rest."  Brad gestured towards an empty table.

Jenny grew more nervous.  "Really, _really_ have to keep going here …"

Brad smiled wickedly.  "But some of those scrapes on your legs look pretty bad, Jenny.  You can see all the way through to the _silver-green_ undercoating.  Tsk, tsk.  I see London, I see France …"

Jenny gulped, hard.  "It's … ah … something new that Mom made … up … this … morning?"

Brad clasped his hands behind his back, and rocked on his heels.  "Why aren't the motors in your legs and arms making any noise when you move?" he grinned.

Jenny's shoulders slumped and she sighed, heavily.  "All right, sit down.  Tuck, if you stand beside me, then nobody should be able to see under the table.  Make believe like you dropped something."

Tuck peeked under the table at Jenny's leg housings.  To his surprise, their surface, and her hips, started to shimmer a bit, like metallic jello.  They briefly turned a silvery color, just long enough to smooth out the dents and scrapes, and then they returned to their normal pale blue.

"Wow, Jenny," said Tuck, "that's really cool!  I mean, I've seen Drew do that before, but I didn't know that you could do it too!"

Brad chuckled, and patted Tuck on the head.  "Folks, let's just wait for a bit here, while young Tucker catches up with the rest of the group."  Jenny just buried her head in her hands.  She looked like she was going to die of embarrassment, for some reason …

Tuck gasped, and started laughing.  "No … way!  No way!  DREW?!?  Bwaahahaha!!!!"

Drew rocked his head back and forth in misery.  "Shhhhhh!!!  Guys, you're _killing_ me!  And I really do have to run!"

"So what's the big rush?" laughed Brad.  "Big shoe sale?  Getting a facial?  Shopping for nail polish?  Not that there's anything wrong with that …"

Tuck fought for breath.  "You know, Drew, Jenny's down at the Kwicky Kuts.  Maybe you could get together with her and try out some new hairdos!"

"Oh, for the love of …" Drew's eyes shot wide.  "Wait a minute.  Jenny is _here_?!?  In the mall?!?"

Brad wiped a tear from his eye.  "Yeah … yeah, she's chasing some gangsters or something."

"Cripes, I can't let her see me _here_!  I'm supposed to be at her _house_!"  Drew held out his hands, pleading.  "Guys, nobody else can know about this.  _Nobody_.  Look, guys, give me a break here.  It's a long story that I don't have time for right now, but I'm just trying to do Jenny a favor.  I'm _begging_ you!"

"Okay, okay … oh, this is just too weird."  Brad was finally calming down.  "How did you get so mangled?  I mean, seriously, are you all right?"

Drew rolled his eyes.  "One of Dr. Wakeman's lab rats went postal and built some kind of robot battle suit.  It's been beating the tar out of me all afternoon."

"HA!"  Tuck pointed a finger into Brad's face.  "Hallucinating, was I?  I told you I saw a robot with a mouse inside!"

"Tuck!  You've _seen_ it?!?"

"A few minutes ago.  It wobbled off in that direction," Tuck gestured.

Drew rose up from the table, and tried to straighten out his pigtails.  "Guys, I've got to track down a homicidal Sputnik-bot.  And I don't know how the heck I'm supposed to find it."

Brad and Tuck suddenly started squirming, as if they were about to explode with laughter.

"Don't worry, Jenny," panted a nasal voice from behind Drew.  "That shouldn't be a problem!  All we have to do is use my trusty pocket spectrometer."

Drew just slammed his head into his hands.  _Oh, God_.  "Sheldon, I thought I told you to wait outside."

Sheldon had just run in from the parking lot, and was trying to smooth out his hair and catch his breath.  "Oh, I know you're just trying to protect me, Jenny.  Just like you bravely shielded me from that horrific fall with your own _body_."  _Blush_.  _Chuckle_.  _Snort_.  "But I could never leave you in your hour of need!  We're a team!"

Brad was biting his lower lip.  Tuck's face was passing red, and approaching purple.

Drew just stared into the distance, too stunned to blink, while Sheldon continued.  "Now, as I was saying, my pocket spectrometer can pick up traces of all sorts of chemicals.  That robot was leaking motor oil when it ran into the mall, so we'll just set it for motor oil and … voila!"  Sheldon held up a small wand-like device in his hand.  "This way, my lady fair!"

After a few seconds of cringing, and eye twitches, Drew just gave up.  "Lead on, Sheldon."

Sheldon and "Jenny" headed off into the mall, following the trail of motor oil from Vladimir's robot.  Once they were out of earshot, Brad and Tuck didn't stop laughing for five minutes.

* * *

Jenny raced down the escalator, hoping to get to the Back Sync Boys, and her beloved Logan, before the Lonely Hearts Club Gang could do … _whatever_ it was they were planning to do.  She was already drawing too much attention to herself from passers-by – _that's the story of my life_ – but she had to risk it.  "Excuse me.  Pardon me!  Excuse me."  She wriggled past annoyed shoppers and finally got to the mall's lower level.  According to the directory, Kwicky Kuts was over by some new electronics store that just opened up.

_Okay, things are still under control_, she thought to herself as she ran towards the hair salon.  _They're still under control!  The Lonely Hearts are more of a nuisance than anything else.  I mean, it's not like they could ever hurt me.  I'll just zip in, kick a little depressed gangster butt, free the Back Sync Boys, accept their gratitude _– she giggled at that thought – _and nobody will be the wiser.  Everything is completely under control._

Kwicky Kuts was just up ahead.  _Why on Earth would the Lonely Hearts kidnap four pop band members only to take them to a discount haircut shop?  To give them bad haircuts?_  Well, maybe it was just that simple; the Lonely Hearts weren't the swiftest operators in town, not by a long shot.  Maybe they were going to give them cow licks, or shave off their goatees.

Jenny barreled around a corner …

And realized that she was about to run over an old lady who had just walked out of an electronics store called Circuit Suburb.  She put on the brakes, and screeched to a stop two feet from the old lady's back.

A lady in a yellow lab coat.  With long, disheveled white hair.

Jenny froze in absolute terror.  _M-Mom?!?_

She didn't budge a servo – and couldn't even if she wanted to.  _What is she doing here?!?  She's supposed to be at home!  Did she hear me?  If she turns around, I'm dead meat!!!  What do I do?!?  What do I do?!?_

There was a fake palm tree surrounded by benches just a few feet away.  It was the only thing she could think of.  Jenny dove behind the tree just as her mother turned around.

Mrs. Wakeman set a shopping bag down on the floor and moaned.

"Oh, the bunions are acting up today.  Now I remember why I hate coming to this madhouse!  I need to sit down for a minute."

Jenny peeked around the palm tree in even _more_ absolute terror.  Her mother had just taken a seat on a mall bench almost directly in front of Kwicky Kuts!  There was no way she could possibly get in there without her mom seeing her.

Jenny was trying to stay calm.  She wasn't doing a very good job of it.  _C'mon, c'mon, you hate the mall, Mom … the parking lot is that way … c'mon …_

Her mother took a pair of boxes labeled "Micro-fusion Regulator 8000" out of her shopping bag and opened one up.  _She's going to look at those things now?!?  Augh, give me a break!!!_  Jenny converted one of pigtails into a parabolic dish microphone, as quietly as she could, and pointed it towards Kwicky Kuts.  Sure enough, she could hear a commotion going on in the back, and voices that sounded like the Lonely Hearts Club Gang.  _I'm fifty feet away from them and I can't budge an inch!_

* * *

 "Sheldon, are you sure that thing really works?" asked Drew.

Shoppers on the upper level had to dodge out of their way, because Sheldon was too completely focused on his pocket do-hickey-whatever to watch where he was walking.  "Okay, I realize you're probably a little skeptical after the whole crashing-the-jet-pack into a delivery truck thing."  He chuckled.  "At least it was delivering a shipment of cotton balls, right?  But rest assured, Jenny, we'll search until we find that little maze-running megalomaniac!"

Drew slapped his forehead.  _Nice dialog_.  "Augh.  All right, less talky more searchy, okay?"

Suddenly the gizmo in Sheldon's hands started beeping furiously.  They looked up, and there was Vladimir's robot, staggering along only a few dozen yards ahead of them.

"It's him!  Sheldon, consider this an apology," whispered Drew.  "As soon as we sneak up and grab this little pest, we can get back home, stick him in his exercise wheel, and de-stress for the rest of the day."

"Freeze right there, you rodent revolutionary!" shouted Sheldon, striking a defiant pose.

Drew fought the urge to strangle him.  _It's a little thing called 'element of surprise'.  Look it up!_

Vladimir turned around to see his pursuers.  "So!  Vakeman's thug and her odd little companion survive!  Vell, I have not made it this far only to be denied, when my triumph is within my reach!"

"Look, what are you babbling about?!?"  Drew planted his hands on his hips.  _I can't believe I just did that._  "You're nowhere near the water supply, so whatever you were going to do there is a bust.  Your robot suit is just about ready to fall apart … which I'd be _more_ than happy to help with, by the way."  Drew pounded a fist into his hand.  "Give up now, and you can be lying on a fresh pile of wood chips sipping from your water bottle in half an hour."

"You think you can bribe me with creature comforts, vhen I am destined to rule?!?  You insult me, robot!"  Vladimir grew angry.  "Is true, I may not have townsfolk at my command.  But are plenty of potential mind-control drones inside of hideous shopping complex!  Glorious irony, that my revolution shall begin in corrupt temple of decadent capitalism!"

"All right," grumbled Drew.  "You want hard way, you got hard way."  _I've got a lot of frustration to work out of my system today, Mickey_.

Drew took off in a sprint for Vladimir, who was now pushing his robot as hard as he could, shaking and belching oily puffs of smoke into the air.  Vladimir scrambled around a corner.  A few steps behind, Drew excuse-me'd his way around a cluster of window shoppers, eager to end this little outing as quickly as possible.  He turned the corner …

And Vladimir's robot was standing still, in front of a mattress store, leaning on the handrail, overlooking the ground floor below.  Drew could see a huge, evil grin on the little rat's face.  _What was he looking at?_

He glanced over the railing, and felt like he was going to have a stroke.  On a bench, in front of some kind of barber shop next to the Circuit Suburb, Dr. Wakeman sat on a bench, relaxing.  _What the blazes is Doctor Wakeman doing here?!?_  And just behind her, hiding behind a fake tree … no, that just couldn't be Jenny.  _Yes … yes, it could.  Oh Lord, if she sees me here … if she sees _Sheldon_ here … if Sheldon sees _her_ here … oh, sweet Moses._

A small panel slid open on Vladimir's robot – actually, the door just popped off and clattered to the floor.  With a struggling whine, Drew saw the nose of a mini-missile poke out of the robot's chest cavity.

* * *

Mrs. Wakeman frowned as she inspected the boxes she'd just purchased.  "Wouldn't you know it, these are just the converters.  This is the last time I buy generic!  I think I needed the whole kits, that come with the flux-couplers included.  I wonder if I need to buy flux-couplers …"  She tapped her chin, trying to remember what she had lying around the laboratory.  "I would rather not foray back into that merchandise jungle, but oh, I'd hate to drive home only to turn around and come back here."

Jenny gritted her teeth from behind the palm tree.  _For crying out loud, Mom, buy the stupid flux-couplers and Get! Out! Of! Here!  I've got to get into that Kwicky Kuts!  I've got to stop the Lonely Hearts Club Gang!_

Instead, Mrs. Wakeman snapped her fingers.  "Of course!  I'll just give XJ-9 a call and have her run down to the laboratory to check for me.  It's probably not a bad idea to check on her, anyway.  She'll enjoy the chance to get out of her bedroom.  Assuming she's still there, of course.  That girl had better not be watching television in the living room!"

Jenny stared, mortified, as her mother pulled a handheld communicator out of her lab coat pocket.  _Living room?!?  I'm standing right behind you!!!  No, no, no, NO!!!_

Mrs. Wakeman activated the communicator.  It telescoped in length, and unfolded into a small video screen.

Jenny looked around frantically.  _She's going to know I'm at the mall as soon as the screen turns on!  I've got to get out of here!  But I'm supposed to be in my room!  What am I gonna do?!?_

Her belly-bolt started to buzz.

She got a desperate idea.  Up on the second floor, she saw something called the Slumber-rific Mattress Factory.  The entrance was right next to that weird olive-green trash can with the plastic dome.  Risking the noise, she deployed her pigtail-jets and blasted towards the store's entrance.

* * *

Drew ducked behind the railing, for what little hiding value it provided.  Jenny leapt into the air, practically flying straight towards him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sheldon coming around the corner of luggage store, trying to keep up with the excitement.

Vladimir's robot shifted slightly, taking careful aim at Mrs. Wakeman below.  At least he was going to have his revenge against his oppressor.

Drew felt like he was having a brain spasm.  There wasn't even time to think.

In one flurry of activity, Drew stretched his arms towards Sheldon, grabbed his sweatshirt hood, and hauled it over his head, covering his eyes.  Clutching him by the collar, Drew hauled him off his feet and dove towards Vladimir's robot, sliding along the floor.  He caught a glimpse of a pale blue blur as Jenny sailed over his head and into the mattress store, for whatever reason.  He didn't know if she saw him or not, and didn't have time to worry about it now.

Drew and Sheldon plowed into the legs of Vladimir's robot, slamming it onto its back.  With one arm still holding onto Sheldon's sweatshirt, and the other holding on to two of the battle robot's legs, he lunged wildly into the store next to the mattress shop, which turned out to be a trendy clothing store.  The three of them landed violently against a rack of dresses, knocking them over and startling half a dozen teenage girls.

Vladimir's robot sprawled onto the floor, with two of its legs ripped off.  The rat slammed against his control panel, hard, hitting a few buttons.

Drew – "Jenny" – lay stunned on a pile of cashmere sweaters and watched the mini-missile pop out of Vladimir's robot with a pneumatic _shoomp_.  It almost seemed to flutter through the air, in slow motion, like a falling leaf.  Then it gently tumbled back down, bounced off a pile of clothing, and rolled to a stop.  On Drew's stomach.

And the little red light on its nose was beeping.

* * *

CONCLUDED in Chapter Five

* * *


	5. The Best Laid Plans

* * *

Some Like It 'Bot

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Five – The Best Laid Plans

* * *

Drew knew about as much on the proper disarming of missile warheads as the average high school student did; in other words, virtually nothing.  Sheldon might be able to do it, but his eyes were spinning around in his head right now.  Vladimir might be able to do it, but Drew wouldn't have trusted the little vermin to disarm one of his own weapons.  The red light on the missile's nose started to blink faster.  _That's probably bad_, thought Drew.  _In the movies, blinking fast means it's about to blow up.  A steady red light means it's about to blow up really soon_.

The missile's nose blinked faster and faster, then shone with a steady red light.  _Oh, mega-crap_.

The shoppers in the clothing store were still a little stunned, and were just standing around gawking at the two robots – and one geek – who had just dove into the store.  Drew realized that he had to worry about innocent bystanders first.  There was no place to throw Vladimir's miserable little bomb, and nothing to use as a shield.  Well, except for one thing – himself.

"Everybody get down!" yelled "Jenny".

Drew clutched onto the mini-missile sitting on his belly – it was only the size of a soda bottle – and rolled over, covering the missile with his body.  He figured one of two things would happen.  One, the missile would blow him to smithereens, and hopefully somebody would give a touching eulogy at the funeral.  Or two, the missile would blow his bizarre body into globs of silver pudding, and he'd spend the next five minutes reassembling himself, to the screams of horrified mall-goers.

Then he could try explaining to Dr. Wakeman why her evil lab rat was here, to Jenny why Sheldon was here, and to Sheldon that he'd just spent a romantic afternoon of crime-fighting with another guy.  _Hmmm, option one is sounding pretty good right now_.

* * *

The salesman never saw what hit him.  Jenny flew into the Slumber-rific Mattress Factory like a bullet out of a rifle barrel, and sent him tumbling over a stack of mattresses.  She'd apologize later, but she had, maybe, one-half of a second to fool her mother.

Jenny picked out one of the sample beds and flopped onto her back.  Just as her head hit the pillow, her chest-plate split open, and the video monitor deployed.  She had just enough time to close her eyes before her mother's face popped on the screen.

"XJ-9, I trust everything is still running smoothly on … "  Mrs. Wakeman stopped, and sighed.  "Oh, for heaven's sake, XJ-9, are you asleep?  You aren't scheduled to power down for another five hours!"

Jenny "woke up" with a long, exaggerated yawn, stretching her arms for the video screen.  "Just having a rest, Mom," she blurted.  "Not much to do in the ol' bedroom.  Which is where I am.  It's been a pretty quiet, boring afternoon on the monitors.  Here in my bedroom.  My monitor-filled bedroom.  Heh-heh.  Ummm … what's the problem?"

"I wanted you to do me a quick favor, dear.  Could you run down to my lab and see if I have any spare flux-couplers in my parts inventory?"

_Run down to the lab … oh, nuts_.  "Ah …. I … ah … don't need to, Mom.  You've got plenty down there, you picked up half a dozen flux-couplers when you went grocery shopping, remember?  So you don't need to buy any more at the mall."

"Oh, that's right.  Silly me, I'd forgotten!  I guess I can be on my way …"  Mrs. Wakeman suddenly looked puzzled.  "XJ-9, how did you know that I was at the mall?"

_Uh-oh_.  "Ah … I … ah … can … see somebody with a shopping bag behind you!"  _Gasp.  Gasp._

For a young lady who was resting comfortably on her bed, XJ-9 was acting particularly nervous.  "Are you feeling all right, XJ-9?"

"Yes!  I'm feeling great!  Feelin' … super!  Thanks for asking!"

Jenny didn't notice that the salesman had gotten back to his feet, with an annoyed look on his face.  "Can I help you with something, miss?" he asked.

Her mother frowned a bit.  "And just who is that?"

Jenny grimaced in fear, and grabbed the monitor to prevent it from turning to look.  "Nothing!  Nothing!  Just a … door-to-door salesman.  I need to go get rid of him!"

"Door-to-door salesman …?"

And with that, she slammed her monitor off, and folded it back into her chest.  She sat up, and tried to calm herself down.

The salesman just scowled as Jenny ran to the front of the store, and peeked down to the ground floor.  Her mother scratched her head, shrugged, and put the communicator back in her pocket.  Then she got up off the bench.  _Yes!  She's leaving!_  Jenny slapped her forehead.  _Which means that I might have ten minutes to fix everything and beat her home.  Oh, brother._

* * *

Drew gritted his teeth, waiting for the explosion, but it never came.  Was the missile a dud?  _Ha!  There's no way I'm that lucky_.  Drew took a look under his steel stomach.   He didn't hear or see the missile's nose beeping.  In fact, he didn't see the missile at all.  He rolled over on his back and looked around.  There was no way that it could simply have rolled away.  _What gives?_

A warbling feeling radiated up his body from his stomach.  Suddenly he realized what had happened to the missile.  _He'd eaten it_.  Or more accurately, his nanobot body had absorbed it and broken it down.  Some kind of reflex?  He didn't know, and right now, didn't care.  The important thing was that nobody had seen it.  Drew sat up, and took a deep breath.  _Mama Mia, that's-a spicy meat-ball_.

Everyone in the store, including Sheldon, was staring at "her".  _Oh, right … I'm still the super robot girl.  Okay, let's wrap this up and get out of here._

"Relax, everybody.  Everything's okay.  Umm … resume your normal shopping activity."  Drew plucked the semi-conscious lab rat out of the robot suit by the tail, and lifted him into the air.  "Do you have a box or something I can put this in?" he asked the cashier.

"Ewwww!!!" she squealed, tossing an empty shoe box.  "Just get that disgusting thing out of there!"

"He's not disgusting!"  Sheldon caught the shoe box.  "Sure, he was going to take over the town with mind control serum, and he tried to destroy our lovely guardian angel here" – he gestured to "Jenny", who just cringed – "but that just makes him evil, not disgusting."

Vladimir shook his fists in rage.  "Evil!  I will be showink you evil!  Release me at once!  You cannot hold down my proletarian brothers forever!  Ve vill rise up …"

Drew groaned, and dropped the lab rat in the shoebox.  "Just – shut – UP.  Geez."

He had to do something with Vladimir's robot, and he had to do something with Sheldon.  He walked over to glance out of the front of the store.  He didn't see Dr. Wakeman down by the benches anymore, so she must have left – probably to go home.  But he did see a pale blue streak swoop down into the Kwicky Kuts.  He didn't have a lot of time.  _How the blazes am I going to beat Jenny and her mom back to the house?_

* * *

The four pop sensations, the Back Sync Boys, were shivering with fear, tied up in barber chairs.  The henchmen of the Lonely Hearts Club Gang growled at the hairdressers, who cowered at the back of the shop.  "Please, please don't hurt us!" pleaded one of the hairdressers.  "Take the money, take whatever you want!"

"The only thing we're taking from you today is you naivety," sneered the Boss.  "After you see these four pretty boys stripped of their carefully cultivated coiffures, then you will gain an appreciation of our grief.  The grief of those who didn't have happiness handed to them at birth, on a silver platter.  I'll think we'll start with … you."  The Boss turned on a pair of electric clippers, and had one of his henchmen lift him up behind Logan's chair.

"Say good-bye to your status as pop culture icons, gentlemen," gloated the Boss.

But before he could start, Jenny frantically swished into the store with a gust of wind, landing a few feet away from the barber chairs.  The Lonely Hearts jumped in surprise, and the Boss sulked in frustration.  "You again!  I thought we'd lost you in the parking lot!"

Jenny took a second to calm herself down.  "Well, you thought wrong!  All right, Lonely Hearts, put the clippers down and put your hands up.  You can walk out of here, or you can be _carried_.  I don't have a lot of time to waste." 

"I think you're overestimating your position," sneered the Boss.  He raised his clippers into the air.  "Make one more move, and the Back Sync Boys will have to be renamed the Cue Ball Boys!"

"NO!!!" Jenny gasped.  "Wait!  Don't do anything crazy!"  Jenny suddenly realized that she was standing not more than ten feet from Logan.  _Logan!_  She blushed and giggled, and gave a little wave.  "H-hi there, Logan!  _Eeeee!_"

One of the henchmen took advantage of Jenny's distraction, and pulled a sink hose from a hair-washing station.  He blasted her with a shower of water.  Jenny shuddered and crackled as the water hit her metallic body, throwing short circuits and tiny bolts of electricity into the air.  Small wisps of smoke started to drift from her pigtails.

"I'm actually glad you're here to see this, robot girl," the Boss gloated.  "In a few minutes, your precious crooner is going to have more of a shine on his head than you do."  The clippers turned on with a _buzzzz_.

* * *

Drew struggled with Vladimir's battle robot as he carried it towards the exit doors of the mall.  It was heavy, and awkward, and he was trying not to bump into too many shoppers.  Sheldon was two steps behind him, carrying the shoebox with Vladimir inside.  And he hadn't stopped talking since they left the clothing store.

"… can't believe that we captured a dangerous villain together, Jenny!  I mean, I never had any doubt in my mind that _you_ were going to catch him.  After all, you're a professional crime-fighting hero!  But it was so _awesome_ helping you out this afternoon.  Not that you needed any help, of course.  Although I always secretly hoped that you'd find my inventions useful …"

"Sure, that sounds great … _unghhh_ … whatever."  _Jeez, does he ever stop talking?  He's got to run out of air sometime_.  Drew was trying to figure out how he was going to make this stunt work, and he was barely paying attention to Sheldon.

"… and I'm really grateful for the opportunity to test the jet pack and the sludge gun.  And I just wanted to say thanks for all the times you saved my life this afternoon.  We've stared down the grim reaper and laughed in his face, side by side!  And … I'd … Jenny, I'd really like a chance to show my appreciation to you … ummm … like on a … ummm … you know …"

"_Unghhh_ … can you get that door, please?"  Drew shifted his grip on the robot suit, while Sheldon happily threw the glass doors open with a sweeping gesture.  Drew carried the robot suit a few more steps, and set it down on the pavement.  "Let's see our little prisoner," he said.

"Uh … sure, Jenny."  Sheldon handed him the shoebox.  "So, as I was saying, I'd be honored if you …"

Drew ignored Sheldon, and grabbed Vladimir from the shoebox, clutching him in a metal fist.  "Okay, listen up, rat fink.  I have _one_ question for you."

"Bah!" spat Vladimir.  "I am not afraid of goody-goody robot girl.  Nothink you do can be makink me talk!"

Drew growled in anger.  "Oh, yeah?  Just inside those doors, there's a pet store.  I _know_ they have a lot of cats.  And they have lizards and snakes, too.  Even a python.  I wonder if they've been fed yet today …"

Vladimir gasped in horror.  "All right, I am talkink!  I am talkink!"

Drew pointed to the robot suit.  "How do I turn on the rocket engine?"

All this time, Sheldon had _still_ been talking nonstop.  "… and can assure you that contrary to popular misconception, the Museum of Entomology is really quite fascinating, especially the section on swamp insects, and it's a lovely way to spend an evening …"

Drew rolled his eyes and sighed.  "Sheldon!  Okay, look, yes!  Sure!  Whatever you say!  I need to concentrate here for a second!"  He turned to Vladimir.  "Show me the button, unless you want to wind up as a bowl of Python Chow."

He wrapped his arms around the battered robot suit, and the shoebox, and took a deep breath.  _Okay, Jenny's house has to be in … that direction.  I sure hope I'm still alive five minutes from now._  He tapped the button and tightened his grip.  The rocket motor at the bottom of Vladimir's robot suit deployed, and a belch of orange flame shot out, launching the robot, and Drew, and Vladimir, screaming into the sky, at an insane speed and barely under control.

Sheldon stared up into the sky, coughing on the dark exhaust fumes, grinning ear to ear.  He spun around and punched the air with his fist.  "_Yesss!_  Sheldon Lee, it's your lucky night!"  _Chuckle!  Snort!_

* * *

Sparks and smoke continued to shoot off of Jenny's head.  As long as that henchman kept that sink hose trained on her, firing water full blast, she was going to have problems.  And the clock was ticking.  _Mom must be on the highway by now_.

Jenny deployed an umbrella from her left wrist, deflecting the water away from her face.  She balled her right hand into a fist, and then jettisoned her entire right arm at the shoulder, firing it at the gangster like a missile.  Small rocket jets blasted from Jenny's detached arm, and it landed a mighty blow to the gangster's chin.  He was out cold before he hit the floor.

While her flying right arm doubled over another surprised gangster with a punch to the stomach, Jenny leapt towards the two biggest men, knocking them senseless with a spinning helicopter kick.  Three more of the mopey miscreants dropped to the floor, making a nice, neat unconscious pile.  The only one left to go was the pint-size Boss.  Alarmed at the speed with which the robot girl dealt with his four partners, he brought the clippers down to within half an inch of Logan's head.  "Don't make another move, you tin-plated teenybopper," he threatened.

She hovered in front of the him with a sly smile.  "Whatever you say."  Jenny's flying arm looped around behind the Boss, and punched him in the back of the head.  _Mission accomplished_, she grinned, as she reattached her arm …

But the clippers tumbled out of the Boss' hands, and before Jenny could react, thick chunks of luscious brown hair were flying into the air, and landing onto the floor of the shop.  Logan looked in the mirror, mortified.

"NO!" screamed Jenny.  She quickly caught the clippers, and untied Logan, but the damage had been done.  "Oh, _Logan_!  I'm so sorry!  I was trying to save you but my mom was outside the store and I couldn't let her see me and I really love all of your songs and me and my friends all think you're the cutest well except for Connie but what does she know and …"

Logan ignored her and patted his hair, examining the damage.  "Oh, man!  It's a total write-off!  There's no way I can get another one in before tomorrow's photo shoot!  Somebody get Morty on the phone.  We'll have to reschedule."

Jenny clasped her hands, pleading.  "Let me do it for you, Logan!  Please!  I've got to make it up … to … wait a minute.  Get another _what_ before tomorrow?"

Logan pointed to his hair.  "A _replacement_, you silly twit."

The unthinkable suddenly entered Jenny's mind.  She reached for Logan's hair, gave it a firm, gentle tug … and it _came off_ in her hand.

Jenny was stunned.  "What – what – what's going on here?!?  What is this?!?"

"It's my wig," groaned Logan, "and a very expensive one!  I get these things custom-made in Italy!  Ah, the spare is back at the studio, and it's going to take at least six weeks to get another one made …"

"But … but how can you be bald?"

"I started losing my hair five years ago."

"WHAT?!?"  Jenny's neck telescoped, shooting her head to within six inches of Logan's nose.

He shrunk back into the salon chair.  "Uh … you see … well, I'm thirty-two years old."

Jenny just stared, and her mouth quivered a few times.

"You're an _old man_!!!  AUUGGGHHH!!!"  Tears streamed from her eyes.  "I can't believe this!  My life is over!  My world has no meaning!  The Back Sync Boys are _total frauds!_"

"Shhhh!!!  Not so loud!!!" said Logan, trying to calm her down.  "Look, tell you what we'll do.  Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, and we'll … we'll write a song about you.  We'll put it on the next album!"

That got Jenny's attention, then she looked at Logan again, and his receding hairline.  "Tell you what," she grumbled angrily.  "You don't mention anything about me, I won't mention anything about _this_" – she lifted Logan's wig in her hand – "and you can write a song for my _mother._  Maybe a nice polka.  Or something really ancient like … like _disco_!"  She threw the wig on the floor, and blasted out of the salon, crying as she flew through the roof of the mall.

Two of the Back Sync Boys exchanged a painful glance.  "I rather like disco," sulked K.J.

* * *

Shooting through the clouds over Tremorton, a bizarre pair of robots spiraled wildly though the sky.  Drew was trying to steer by shifting his weight to point the rocket in the right direction.  The world spun upside-down for a few seconds, until he managed to turn the robot's body around and finally got on top of it, riding it like a race horse – a horse that was going to toss him into the next county if he wasn't careful.  _Gasp.  Gasp.  Just a few more minutes_.

That looked like it might have been the high school.  And over to his left – he recognized that intersection.  He was close, but … _oh nuts, I'm going in the wrong direction.  I've got to turn this thing around_.

Drew leaned to his left, but the rocket pitched straight down instead.  The whole flying mess started cartwheeling through the air, out of control.  Drew grabbed the shoebox with Vladimir inside and jumped away from the robot suit.  The suit crashed into a local junkyard, where it and the mind-control serum harmlessly burned up.  But some lucky suburban family was about to get a Jenny-shaped hole in their front yard.  Drew turned his body to shield the little rat from the fall, and plunged into a grassy lawn, blasting a crater ten feet deep.

A few passers-by stared, until finally, a quivering steel hand raised up and sat a crumbled shoebox on the lawn.  Drew pulled himself up a few moments later, and collapsed on his back.  _Maybe I'll just admire the sky for a minute.  Gasp.  Pant.  Gasp._  A quick rest would let the nanobots do a little repair work …

But that was going to have to wait.  Zipping through the sky, Jenny streaked overhead, heading back to her house.  And she could fly an awful lot faster than Drew could run, even as an android.  _No rest for the weary, I guess_.  Drew picked up the shoebox, and sprinted down the sidewalk as fast as he could.

* * *

Jenny touched down on the sidewalk in front of her house, and slumped towards the front door.  Mom's car wasn't in the garage, so she'd beaten her home.  She'd snuck out of the house to see the biggest concert of the year, and gotten away with it.  But it turned out to be the biggest _fraud_ of the year.  She wasn't crying anymore … now she was just mad.  _I'm going upstairs and throw every single Back Sync Boys album and poster I can find into the trash_.

She walked in the house and grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen, then dragged herself slowly up the stairs, brooding.  "I got myself _grounded_ to get tickets for that concert!" she shouted to herself.  "Augh!  And then I risked getting myself _permanently_ grounded to sneak out and see these guys!  I would have been better off staying at home!"

She heard a loud _thud_ come from upstairs.

_What in the world was that?  Oh, right – Drew!_  She'd almost forgotten about him, and suddenly she felt even worse.  _I made him give up his afternoon and stay home with Mom so I could go to that stupid concert!  Oh, no … I'd better pretend that I enjoyed it, or else he'll feel really bad._

She reached for her bedroom door.  "Hey there, sis!  I'm back …huh?"

Her bedroom door _wasn't there_.  It was lying on the floor.  And so was "another" Jenny.

Drew was lying on his stomach, on the bedroom floor, exhausted, clutching onto a beat-up shoebox.  And he looked terrible.  His pale blue coating was covered in dents and clods of dirt from his toes to his pigtails.  His shoulder was flattened and his hips were crooked.  And her bedroom … her bedroom was a _disaster area_!  Everything was scattered all over the floor!  The window was broken!  And one of the wall monitors was totally smashed up!

Jenny grabbed her pigtails.  "What _happened_?!?"

Drew's head lifted up.  "J-Jenny?!?  Hey there … h-how was the concert?!?"

"Drew, what happened to my _bedroom_?!?"

_Let's see_, thought Drew.  _One of your mom's lab rats totally trashed the place, and blasted my butt out the window in a plot to take over the town.  Then Sheldon and I … ewghhh … 'Sheldon and I' …  I would rather skinny-dip in a live volcano than tell her about that._

"I tried to get the football game on that monitor and it blew up.  Heh-heh.  Sorry."

"The monitor _blew up?!_  That doesn't make any sense!"  But then Jenny heard another noise.  A familiar one.

Her mom's car was pulling into the driveway.

"My mother's home!  Oh, no, we've got to clean this room up!"

Drew cringed.  _And I've still got to get this stupid rat downstairs_.  For some reason, Jenny was carrying a trash bag.  "Here!  I'll fill this and toss it in the back yard!  You get your bedroom door back on its hinges!"

He frantically filled the trash bag with blast debris while Jenny deployed a power drill from her right wrist, and raced to fix her bedroom door.  Her left arm extended and deployed a powerful dust-buster, and her lower body converted into a carpet vacuum.

"What about the wall monitor?  I can't let my mom find out you blew it up!"

"I … I'll think of something!"  The trash bag was filled.  Drew grabbed it, tucked the shoebox under his arm, and raced downstairs.

He sprinted to the back of the house, threw open the door, and hurled the trash bag outside.  It landed in the pool.  _D'oh – I'll worry about that later_.  Drew raced back to Mrs. Wakeman's laboratory.  He opened the shoebox, and lifted a disoriented lab rat up by the tail.

"This is _outrage_!  I vill not tolerate such handling in brutish fashion!"  Vladimir was seething with rage.  "And vhy am I hearink voices of _two_ robot thugs?  And vhat is a 'Drew'?!?"

_Oh, crap_.  "Listen up.  It's your lucky day, Mortimer," hissed Drew.  "You tried to take over the town, and blow me up, and now I'm just going to put you back in your cage like _nothing happened_.  Catch my drift?  You're going to run in your happy little exercise wheel and keep your mouth shut, and nobody will ever find out about your little one-day release.  Because if they do …"  He poked a threatening finger into Vladimir's chest.  "Python Chow."

"XJ-9!  What are you doing out of your room, young lady?"  A shiver went up Drew's back.  Sure enough, Mrs. Wakeman was standing right behind him.

He turned around, holding Vladimir in his hands.  "Hi, _Mom_!  I … uh … heard a squeaking noise downstairs, and thought I should check it out.  I think he was just hungry."  Drew took a piece of kibble from Vladimir's cage, and held it up to him.

"Eat up, cute little _mousey_," he said through a forced grin.  "Python Chow," he whispered.  Vladimir grabbed the food pellet and started nervously nibbling away.

Mrs. Wakeman clasped her hands together in delight.  "Oooh, you've made friends with Mister Scruffles!  That's wonderful, dear!  Oh, was my schnookums hungry?  Was he?"  "Jenny" handed the lab rat to her mother, grinning, and took off for the kitchen.  Mrs. Wakeman carried Vladimir back to his cage, scratched him behind the ears, and set him down in his little bed of shredded newspaper.  _Look at that rattled look in his little eyes.  The poor thing needs to get some sleep!_

She set down her shopping bag, and a thought occurred to her.  XJ-9 was looking a little rattled too.  In fact, she looked as if she'd suffered some kind of superficial damage.  Perhaps the emergency monitors had sounded off while she was out shopping for regulators.  She'd best check out the monitor logs in XJ-9's room.

* * *

Drew ran out the back door of the house, sprinted around to Jenny's window, and made it to the upstairs window sill in one jump.  Jenny was working madly away with every piece of cleaning equipment that she had, deployed from her legs, arms, wrists, chest, head, and pigtails.  The bedroom door was fixed, the debris was swept up, and the scorch marks were washed off of the walls.

"She's in the house!" he said, drawing the curtains shut.  "That'll have to do for the window, for now."

Jenny was fighting back a panic.  "The wall monitor!  What about the wall monitor?"

A pair of footsteps walked towards the bedroom door.

Jenny quickly retracted all of her brooms, vacuums, polishers, brushes, and sprayers.  "Drew, _hide_!"

Mrs. Wakeman shouted down the stairs.  "XJ-9, I'm just going to zip into your room for a moment to check the afternoon monitor logs …"  Then she turned around, and almost jumped out of her shoes.  She rubbed her eyes for a moment.  "What in – sweet Aristotle's protractor!  XJ-9, I was just talking to you downstairs!  How did you –"

_Uh-oh.  Ohhh … think fast, girl_.  "Heh-heh … yes, yes you were, because I was downstairs, with you, and then I … ran right back up here!  To my room!"  She lowered her head, in a respectful manner.  "Because that's where I'm supposed to be."

Mrs. Wakeman walked into Jenny's room, and slowly looked around.  It was spotless.  The carpet was clean.  The walls were shining.  No magazines on the floor.  Everything neatly in its place.  All the monitors humming away, with their volumes turned on.  And XJ-9 didn't look damaged or soiled in any way.

Her jaw dropped open.  "Why, I'm … I'm very impressed, young lady.  Your room is cleaner than my quarantine isolation tank!  And you spent your afternoon watching your monitors and doing your studies!"

Jenny smiled innocently.  _I did?  Okay … sure I did._

Her mother lifted her "lecturing finger", with a satisfied smile on her face.  "I knew all you needed was a little guidance, to help you apply yourself to your duties.  And with what you've shown me this afternoon, I believe that you've learned a few things about responsibility as well."  She clasped her hands behind her back.  "Your grounding is concluded, XJ-9."

"That's great!  Thanks, Mom!"  Mrs. Wakeman trotted back downstairs, justifiably proud of her parenting skills.  Jenny let out a huge sigh of relief, and collapsed on her bed.

"Is she gone?" asked the wall monitor.

The shiny, undamaged wall monitor, which wasn't functional but _looked_ an awful lot like a wall monitor, warbled into a silver-green mass, and flowed away from the wall.  It stretched and squashed into a humanoid shape, and with a few last shimmers, took on the form of a familiar gray-green android.  Drew reached up to his throat and tapped it like a microphone.  There were a few muffled chirps, and he finally smiled in relief.

"Oh, wow, does that feel good," he said – in his _own_ voice.  Then he collapsed into the beanbag chair, next to Jenny's bed.

"So, you have a good time at the concert?" he mumbled.

"Uh … sure, sure, great time," Jenny mumbled back.  "You have any excitement here?  Besides the monitor, I mean."

"No, no … pretty dull, just like you said it would be."

They glanced at each other, almost as if they didn't quite fully believe each other's answers.  But they were too tired to say anything about it.

"Thanks for subbing for me, Drew," Jenny finally said.  "I owe you a big favor."

"You can pay my therapy bills for the next five years," he mumbled.  "Forget about it.  Really.  I plan to."

So it was finally over.  Drew was back in his own form.  Jenny had gotten away with playing hooky.  Drew had gotten away with running around half of Tremorton impersonating a super robot girl.  A megalomaniac lab rat was thwarted from an attempt to drug the water supply.  And some local troublemaking gangsters were even more depressed than usual.  And best of all, nobody would ever know about any of it.

The doorbell rang.

They heard Mrs. Wakeman answer the door.  There was conversation and … she burst into a _giggle_.  That was a little out of character for the doctor.

"XJ-9!  There is somebody at the door to see you!"  She sounded almost _impish_.

Drew grit his teeth.  _Why do I have a feeling that I've forgotten something?_

Jenny got up and walked to her bedroom door, a little confused.  "Mom?"

"Young lady, you have a … _gentleman caller,_" she giggled.

Jenny took a few steps down the stairs, and her eyes shot out to the size of pie plates.

Sheldon stood in the doorway, hair combed back, wearing a sport jacket and tie … in clashing colors, of course.  He was holding a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of candy.  "Good evening, Jenny.  I got here right at seven o'clock, like we agreed.  Well, actually … I've been standing on the sidewalk for two and a half minutes.  I didn't want to get here early."

Jenny stammered, unable to put a sentence together.

Mrs. Wakeman wagged a finger at her.  "Ohhh, you little dickens!  You made an _extra effort_ today in order to make sure that your evening would be free for your … _special night_."  She chuckled again.  "Well, you've certainly earned it!  You two young people enjoy yourselves.  I hear the Museum of Entomology is a wonderful way to spend an evening."

Jenny grabbed onto the handrail to steady herself.  "Sure … Mom … just let me … uh … freshen up."

She flew back into her bedroom, her cheeks turning red with anger.  "Drew!  Drew, are you in here?  Is there anything that happened this afternoon that you'd like to _share_ with me?!?  Get out here, you big chicken!  _Drew_!!!"  But Drew was nowhere to be seen.

"Jenny, hurry up!" shouted Sheldon.  "The swamp insect exhibit closes at eight thirty!"

Jenny slapped her forehead, and her shoulders sunk.  She couldn't think of any way out of this without making an even _bigger_ mess.  She _clanked_ down the steps, where Sheldon proudly presented her with the flowers and the box of candy, which was actually filled with an assortment of lug nuts.

"Shall we commence our evening, fair maiden?"  Sheldon extended his arm, blushing furiously.  Mrs. Wakeman dabbed at a tear in her eye.

Jenny rolled her eyes, and grabbed onto Sheldon's arm.  "Commence away, Sheldon," she sighed.

They walked out of the Wakeman house, and ran into … Drew, who was walking down the sidewalk, trying to look innocent.

Mrs. Wakeman was still looking on, so Drew feigned surprise.  "Jenny!  Sheldon!  Why hello there, two people who I have not seen yet today!  Just out for a little night air!  Yessirree!  Just happened to be randomly walking though the neighborhood!"  He laughed nervously.  "Look at you two, now!  Aw, isn't that nice?"

He gave Sheldon a playful punch on the shoulder.  "Way to go, _Casanova_."  Sheldon beamed with pride.  Jenny gave Drew a look that nearly set his metal skin on fire.  There was no such thing as robot ESP, but he didn't need it to read that look:  _I know you're responsible, and I am_ going _to get you for this_.

Sheldon and Jenny walked off for their romantic evening at the insect museum, and Drew sprinted in the opposite direction.  _Maybe I'll stop when I reach Mexico.  Maybe._

* * *

Brad and Tuck walked out of the One Hour Photo at the Tremorton Mall with big smiles on their faces.  Tuck handed a set of photos over to Brad.  "Thanks for paying for the double prints," he said.

"Oh, believe me, little bro, it was my pleasure.  Wow, these disposable cameras actually take a really nice picture, don't they?"

"I'd like to think so," said Tuck.  He flipped through the pictures, admiring his photography skills.  There was Jenny hiding behind a fake tree, next to Dr. Wakeman.  And there was Sheldon running behind "Jenny" in the mall.  And _there_ was Sheldon making _goo-goo_ eyes at "Jenny" after catching the robot.

"You _do_ know what this means, don't you?" grinned Brad.

"Oh yeah," grinned Tuck.  "It means we've got volunteers to rake our yard, shovel our driveway, and mow our lawn for a long, _long_ time."

* * *

THE END

* * *


End file.
